HETA
by BFTLandMWandSEK
Summary: Annie, daughter of the head of a family bent on killing the counties, finds herself unknowingly working as the Axis's maid. Slightly AU, NO OC ROMANCE! Hopefully, better than it sounds. COMPLETED.
1. From Today Onward, You Are a Maid!

**MW: **Well that was fun. I actually had this done about two weeks ago, but I'm just now getting around to putting this up. This chapter is way longer than I would normally write, but I wanted to introduce the plot real soon. Hopefully, you'll all enjoy :)

**EDIT: **Actually, this shorter than what I usually write. And I can tell you officially that the plot really picks up at chapter 4ish and these first three chapters are kind of just the exposition to the plot. I'll eventually get around to editing chapters 2-3, but until then, just bear with me.

**Chapter Summary:** In which Annie goes from being a POW to a maid.

**Warnings**: Violence, Language, Sarcasm.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own hetalia

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 1~<strong>

**From Today Onward, You Are a Maid!**

* * *

><p><strong>August 19, 1927<strong>

**13 years ago**

The memory I treasured the most took place on my eighth birthday. It was a family event, just my Mom, Dad, older brother, and I. My brother, David, had made a blanket fort in the living room and we all huddled in there, listening to a story my father read from a small, leather bound book. The story was about a monster. Not like the ones who live under the bed- different. "These Monsters looked like human beings," my father read. "They didn't age or die, and they bore a hatred towards the human race. They believed them to be naive. During the night they would enter the hearts of unknowing people and poison them into doing their bidding."

David didn't flinch at the story, believing himself to be above such childish tales. I, however, shook in fear until the hero, a little boy, defeated their leader, another Monster who appeared to be a boy his age. "But how?" I had asked.

My fathered shrugged. "It doesn't say."

Mom, a beautiful Italian with the curliest of brown locks, yawned. "Now let's not be fretting over make-believe monsters," she said. "Come along now, it's time for bed."

"Can we sleep in here?" David asked, gaining excitement at the very thought of it.

She smiled. "Oh alright," she gave in. "Just let me grab you your pillows."

It wasn't until we could hear her soft steps going up the stairs and to our rooms did my father lean in and whisper, "I need you two to promise me something."

David and I nodded, intrigued.

"Despite what your mother may say, those Monsters are real. Even though you cannot see them, they are everywhere around us. Promise me that you will help me defeat them when you grow older."

We nodded; anything to please Dad; he then kissed my forehead and handed me the book. "Good night, Annie."

I would like to say that it was that simple little book that was the root of it all. But it really wasn't. In truth, the days of my childhood was just the sorting of the puzzle pieces: red ones in that pile, blue in the other. It wasn't until small hands started to piece them together did the exposition end and the picture started to form.

That day was the day I saw a sleeping Feliciano Vargas in the woods.

* * *

><p><strong>November 15, 1941<strong>

**Italian Border**

I was literally running for my life. My feet moved on their own accord through the pitch black woods of northern Italy. A few days ago (when fleeing through enemy territory, one does not have the need to keep track of exactly how many) I had escaped from a POW camp. But before that I was on a mission assigned by Dad.

Dad is the CEO of a profitable oil company called 'Society Oil Works'. On the outside, he's a charitable man always smiling in his joyful British way. But that was only the outside. My family, the Hensons, work to rid the world of those fairy tale Monsters of long ago. Quiet often, I didn't associate myself with his plight, but this mission was special.

My job was to follow a lead in German-occupied France. I was doing great until my disguise as a British solider became way too convincing, which resulted in me being thrown into a POW camp. In a way, I really did deserve it.  
>And now I was about to be recaptured.<em> "It's just my luck,"<em> I thought bitterly, running further away from the soldier sent to capture me once again. It was hard to run- I was tired and the haft moon gave little light to my way. I was constantly tripping over roots and running into trees.

That's when an idea hit me.

Quickly, I scouted out a climbable tree. Seeing one close by, I swooped down and grabbed a random rock off the ground. I climbed the pine tree and waited for my persuaders to arrive. Sure enough, they came, searching the horizon with their flashlights.

Quietly, I threw the rock in the opposite direction. "Drüben!" One called as the whole search party dashed off towards the noise, believing it to be me. I waited a few seconds before jumping down and dashing off myself.

I ran for a little longer, half a mile at most, before coming upon a creek. The song of the trickling water made me realize how parched my throat and lips were. _"Surely a quick break wouldn't hurt,"_ I reasoned, kneeling down to the water. As I was about to find out, it was a big mistake on my part.  
>The air was silent and pitch black. I could barely see the sandy shore at the other side, much less my reflection, but for the story's sake, I will tell you it anyways. I have fair skin, an even mixture between my English and Italian decent, with wide blue eyes. My hair was also brown but it was cut to a boy's length. Height wise, I'm about 5' 3". I sighed and splashed some water into my face, washing away the mud and blood from days on the run.<p>

"Veee~!"

My eyes shot up. I was a deer in the headlights, awaiting my pending death. For a second, the only sound was my panting, but then there was a crackle of broken leaves . . . on the other side of the brook.

I slowly stood, making out the outline of something on the ground. Cautiously, I started to make my way across the water. _"I have nothing to lose,"_ I thought. _"They'll either shoot or recapture me anyways."_ I truthfully preferred the latter.

"Vee~!" The sound was definitely in front of me. I silently stepped out of the creek and silently tip-toed my way to the lump. Or at least as silent as some can be when moving about in moving water.

This lump was actually a sleeping man. He looked to be about 20 in age with short brown hair that had one defiant curl. Every few seconds, he'd make a

"Vee~!" sound, most likely his equivalent to a snore.

_"What kind of person sleeps in the middle of the forest?" _I asked myself, bending down to get a better look. "So who are you?" I muttered. The stranger was wearing what looked to be a blue uniform. I gasped and stumbled back. An Italian military uniform. Shit.

First instinct: take his hand gun.

I did that in an instant, slipping his fully loaded pistol out of his holster.

Second instinct: shoot him.

I raised the gun, ready to put my life first, but . . .

I cursed my amazingly good heart (yeah right) and kicked the sleeper hard in the stomach. In my twist train of thought, I reasoned that it would had been holier of I killed the man while he was awake, for then at least he could take my image and give it to the devil when he saw him. "Wake up!" I ordered, aiming straight for his head... "It'll be dirty if I-"

"OW~!" the sleeper wailed, curling up in pain. His voice was childish and thick with an Italian accent. "GERMANY~!"

I backed away, confused. "Who the bloody hell is-" I didn't get a chance to finish my question, mostly since a robust blond kicked me hard in the back. I dropped my gun and fell onto my stomach. His heavy military boot pinning my down to the ground.

"Italy, are you okay?" he asked in some form of Italian. Must be the thick German accent mixed with his deep, gruff voice.

"Germany~!" the Italian cried, bear hugging him and, at the same time, pinning his arms at his side.

I seized the opportunity. In his moment of touching reunions, I struggled my way out from under his boots. That guy must be strong, since it felt as though one of my ribs were cracked. I saw the gun laying a few feet away from me. I wasted no time crawling towards it. Just as my finger tips brushed the butt, the blade of a katana barely scraped the tip of my nose.

An Asian man, about 35, looked down at me with a blank expression. "Don't do that," he stated in English. He also had an underlying accent.

"Why you-" I snarled, trying to sit up, but once again discovered my seemingly cracked rib. I gasped in pain.

As if my day (night actually) couldn't get any worst, the soldiers that I had so cleverly tricked earlier came bursting through the bushes. "Kommandant

Ludwig!" they saluted. "Hail Hitler!"

"Hail Hitler," Ludwig, previously known as Germany, saluted in an unenthusiastic tone. "Was ist das Private?"

"Kommandant," one of them barked. "Wir nehmen zur Kenntnis, dass Sie die entflohenen Gefangenen erfasst." In case any of you were wondering, I have no idea what the they just said, being that it was in German and that I can barely ask for the bathroom in German. However, I am completely fluent in

English and Italian. My excuse: I descend from both nationalities and lived many years in each, so why not?

Ludwig looked at them. "Ausbrecher?" He looked at me. "Lassen Sie mich sehen, dass Taschenlampe."

The German knelt to my height and (still with the clinging Italian) shinned the light into my face. I just shut my eyes in time. Right now wasn't the time to be temporarily blind. Suddenly, Ludwig grabbed my hair and lifted my face closer to his, "Nun, was Sie wissen! Es ist ihm," he exclaimed, letting me go. "Private, Handschellen ihn und bringen ihn zurück in die gestapo."

I may not know any German, but I did know what the 'gestapo' was. As the private hand-cuffed my hands behind my back, I made the decision that dying would be a lot better than a chat with the notorious people killer. I was lifted to my feet and led away. However, I decided to throw caution to the wind and do whatever the heck I wanted and, if I was lucky, they would shoot me.

I kicked one of the privates where it mattered and rammed my shoulder into another. Semi-free, I started a mad dash into the woods when the hilt of an all too familiar katana made contact with the back of my head.

"Damnit," I muttered, feeling my consciousness leave me. My knees buckled and I fell to the ground, out cold before I hit the dirt.

* * *

><p><strong>Date Unknown<strong>

**Location Unknown**

I struggled in my chair, trying my hardest to break free. The holding room was dimly lit with white-washed walls and concert floors. If you looked hard enough, you could see the faded stains of blood, no doubt from past interrogations. There was a single steel door that was most likely bolted shut. A few windows, each no bigger than my foot and were placed a foot away from the ceiling. Overall, it was a very intimidating atmosphere.

Even though the room was pretty much escape proof, I was handcuffed to a metal chair. I had woken up to find myself like this. Overkill, right? I had no idea where I was, or even what day it was. For all I knew, the gestapo was going to kill me in a few minutes, which in my case was highly probable.

Great . . .

My head shot up as the door was unbolted and in strode a lanky German, one I had never seen before. Bolting the door behind him, he gave a smile that sent shivers down my spine. "Hello prisoners," he said in English. "Name is Commander Baum."

Jeez, even his English was awful. I didn't let him see my disgust; instead I just glared at him.

"What your name is, herr?" Herr Lanky (like the nick name?) asked.

Nothing. I was trying to decipher what he had said.

"Herr. What your name is?" he repeated. I finally figured out what he meant, and blinked. Basic German lesson: 'Herr' meant 'Sir'. That meant he thought that I was a boy! I smirked, trying not to laugh.

The smirk didn't play well with him. He spat in my face and knocked me to the ground, followed by a boot to the face.

"What your name is?"

You know the saying that it's only funny until someone gets hurt? That was actually was true this time, mostly since the one getting hurt was me. For the better of my future health, I decided to tell him the truth. "Annabel." I finally spat. The German psychically stepped back, more aware that I had a girl's voice now that I had finally said my name. "My name is Annabel Milano Henson." Yes, my middle name is a goofy Italian city. Don't judge me; it was my Mom's fault.  
>Herr Lanky walked- actually sprinted -out of the room, leaving poor old me on the ground.<p>

It was silent for a few minutes, giving me enough time to note how oddly comfortable the ground was. But soon enough, the peace was broken.

"HE'S A WHAT?" An all too familiar voice yelled. Opening the door with a thud, Commander Ludwig stormed in. He was furious, his white skin tomato shade of red. Grabbing me by my shirt collar, he lifted me into the air so that I was eye to eye with him. I was more impress with the strength on my shirt than the German's. It's not every day a shirt could carry the weight of a 21 year old woman handcuffed to a metal chair.

"You're a girl?" Ludwig demanded, blue eyes glaring at me. His English being the best yet.

Although I was impressed, I was still at his mercy. Against my better judgment, I figured that it probably wouldn't hurt to be a smart ass to him. "Obviously,"

I stated, as if it was no big deal.

"Why you little-" He raised a fist to punch me, but stopped himself. "-why should I believe you?"

Wow, this guy was stubborn to a fault. A little more sass wouldn't hurt him. "You have a clear view, just look for yourself." He continued to glare at me, confused. I rolled eyes and looked down. Catching my drift, he looked down my shirt. He blushed at the sight of my way too small breasts. Again, I blame my Mom.

Obviously pissed, he threw me, the chair and all, against the wall. I didn't know if the chair softened the blow at all. Either way, I didn't care- that freaking hurt!

"Ludwig-san, would you please contain yourself?" Sure enough, it was my favorite katana-wielding-master from before; sounding calmer than what I thought was possible. Hiding behind him was the lazy Italian that I had nearly killed, trembling in fear as his eyes darted between me and Ludwig.

"Why should I Kiku?" Ludwig snapped.

Kiku sighed. "Since she's a girl, she cannot go back to the camp." We both started at him, having not realized that ourselves. Prisoner of war camps were meant for soldiers and soldiers were supposed to be guys. Even though I had disguised myself as one, I had to admit that I was lucky to pull through with the masquerade at all. The main components to my success were the cigarettes I used to bribe guards and other soldiers and my already lacking figure.

It seemed as though they were at a loss, I ventured another comment. "Why don't you just let me go?" I suggested hopefully.

"Shut-up!" the German snapped, kicking me in the face again. That time my nose broke under the force of his boot. "The quick solution is to simply kill her.

We already have her on a charge for assaulting a government official."

"Excuse me, but you've been doing all the kicking here!" I snapped, trying to talk through the river of blood now leaking from my nose and spilling into my mouth. Ludwig looked ready to kick me again, but resisted, realizing that I was right.

He crossed his arms, saying, "That doesn't excuse the fact that you attacked Commander Vargas."

In disbelief: "You mean the little Italian right there?"

The Italian made a "Waa~!" sound before hiding further behind Kiku.

I sighed. I give up; this was just way too hopeless. This must have been God's punishment for cross dressing in foreign countries. "How about this: you just shoot me now and end my suffering."

Ludwig smiled and pulled out his gun. "Gladly."

Kiku panicked for a second before stepping between us. "Before we result to violence, may I suggest an alternative?" Ludwig and I were silent. "Annabel-san, was it?

"I prefer Annie," I interjected

He continued as if it I never said anything. "What do you want the most?"

That was an easy one. "To get out of this bloody German's grasp and back to England." Oh England, my second homeland, and the place I spent a quarter of my life at.

Kiku turned to the German. "And you, Ludwig-san, want punishment?"

Ludwig nodded.

"The how about this: Annie-san will work for us as our maid in exchange for an exit visa."

"What?" Ludwig and I cried in unison. We both shouted our objections.

Kiku sighed and, still in his calm voice, said, "Ludwig-san. Imagine all of the paper work we'll have to file if we shoot her. And what about the Allies? When they find out that we executed a girl, Alfred would no doubt turn this into one of his hero situations."

We were both silent, thinking this over. I highly doubted that the Nazi government would care if they killed off another woman. Even so, there was a look on Ludwig's face that showed that he hated the idea of the Allies getting their hands on this information.

I couldn't help myself but to ask, "Who's Alfred?"

I was ignored as Ludwig gave this some more thought. "This could work," Ludwig said. "We can keep her prisoner, away from all of the male soldiers and we get a free cleaning service." He nodded. "Fine, this does seem like the best way to go, but I'll only do it if Feli doesn't mind."

Feliciano Vargas thought it over for a second, before nodding himself. "Just as long as Ludwig promises to protect me."

"I always will."

That was sweet. I would've awed at the scene, but I did occurred to me that was just about to be forced into an equivalent of slavery. "Excuse me, but don't I get a say in this?" I asked.

"Why should you?" Ludwig asked. "You're benefiting the most from this."

I grimaced, trying to hide my anger. "Well I don't know about you, but I'd prefer not being a maid by day and a prostitute by night."

Ludwig laughed a cruel laughed. "Don't flatter yourself. You're not even pretty enough to be married to a shit filled-"

Kiku slapped a handover the German's mouth. "Please excuse him," he apologized. "But I see your point. We'll have all the terms and conditions written out in a contract for all of us to sign."

I smiled. I was starting to really like this guy. "Agreed."

* * *

><p><strong>November 19, 1941<strong>

**A few miles from Milan, Italy**

Kiku Honda handed me the packet of papers. "And now all we need to do is sign it," he said triumphantly. We, as in Ludwig, Feli, Kiku, and I, were apparently driving to Feli's house on the outskirts of Milan (oh, the irony). It seems hard to believe that only yesterday; Ludwig was breaking my nose instead of driving us up to the officers' current location. "We also take residence in Germany and Japan," Kiku had explained.

And while we're still fresh on this topic, let's talk about my condition. My nose has been bandaged up; along with the countless cuts I had received during my chase. On a bright note, Ludwig didn't crack my rib when he stepped on me. The bad news was that I had a bruise the size of his foot on my back.

I was still in my dirty remains of a solider uniform, but I felt a lot better about my situation. We'd just spent the past hour or so agreeing to the terms of our contract. It contained the basic stuff, like how I couldn't carry a weapon, hurt my 'Bosses' (yes, I am entitled to call them that), and how I have to clean, run errands, and occasionally cook. On their side, they could only keep me for 5 years maximum, or until the war is over. They couldn't violate or hurt me either. They also had to supply me with food, room, and proper clothing. I also couldn't attack any of them unless it was out of self defense.

I quickly glanced over the document again. It was hard to see in the fading light; dusk was starting. "Everything here seems to be in order," I said, signing the paper. Ludwig made a huff

"Oh would you please get over it?" Kiku said, signing it himself. He handed the papers over to Feli, who then added his signature. Ludwig would have to sign it later.

"So Kiku," I said, shifting in my seat. "Why are three commanders, all having nationalities of the Axis, living together in a house?" What? You would be curious too!

Everyone raised an eyebrow. "You're quite observant," Kiku remarked. "But you might as well know. We three are commanders of a different sort. Our jobs are to know exactly all the politics in the country we represent and make on-the-spot decisions that benefit our respective country the most. Since our three countries are working so close in hand with each other, it would be pointless not to live together."

I nodded. "That makes sense," I said, letting the subject drop. Truthfully, there was still one thing that bugged me: Feli. The Italian didn't seem to be the type for politics. "_There must be more to him then what meets the eye_," I reasoned.

The car pulled up to a villa. It was surrounded by a brick wall, not a high one, one just high enough to make a point: it was private. Passing through the gates, I saw that the house itself was fairly big, made of white stucco and a red roof. It was much like my old house in southern Italy.

"Am I the only maid here?" I asked, noting the large size.

"Yeah, but don't worry. Ludwig is a clean freak," Feliciano said. I was shocked at the sound of his voice. That was the first time he had ever spoken directly to me.

We climbed out of the car, Feli saying something about making dinner. Ludwig was silent, as Kiku took my hand and began dragging me inside, saying something about getting a bath started for me.

The inside felt open, there being light colors like white and yellow on the walls and large windows everywhere. There wasn't much furniture, but there were a lot of pictures. For some reason it felt homely, inviting even. I was so distracted by this that I hadn't noticed Kiku dragging me up the stairs and to the second story. In fact, I hadn't noticed that the Japanese man was talking to me.  
>". . . sweet guy, a little lazy at times, but sweet." Kiku was saying. I could only presume that he meant Feli. "However, he's very afraid of you, so do try to be nice to him." I sighed. "I'm just trying to say that these westerners are strange, but they mean well. If anyone, be nice to Feli."<p>

I didn't get the chance to reply, as we had finally come to the bathroom. Kiku pointed out where the towels were and such. "We'll bring you something to wear in a few minutes. And after dinner, I'll show you where you'll be staying."

I muttered a thank you and kicked him out of the room, locking the door behind me. As I undressed, I noted a small window on the wall. Many of you would say that I could just climb out of the window right now and be on my merry way, but Ludwig had forwarded my picture to every solider at the borders, saying that if they find me without the proper paperwork, they'll be forced to shoot me. Yeah, I hate him too.

A bath ended up being the best thing for me. The hot water washed away days-worth of mud and blood. I stayed in there, enjoying the warmth, until the water itself was a brown color. There was a knock on the door as I was getting out. "I have a dress for you to wear," Ludwig called from behind the door.

"What is a house full of men doing with a dress?" I asked, drying myself off.

"I don't know!" Ludwig snapped. "Feli just had it and wants you to wear it!"

I really don't like dresses. I gained a hatred for them in my teen years when I would wear my brothers old clothes and go brawl with the other guys on the streets for money (don't ask). Compared to pants, dresses just didn't cut it. There was also this one time when I wore this dress . . . . Now I was just getting ahead of myself.

"I'm leaving it outside the door," Ludwig stated. "Now hurry up! Dinner's ready."

I didn't have to wear the dress. As dirty as it was, my soldier's clothes were still good. But Feli did want me to wear it and getting him on my side wouldn't hurt. I sighed. I could already tell that this is going to suck.

* * *

><p><strong>MW: <strong>There will be some humor in the future as more countries are introduced (the allies will be here around chapter 4 or 5 ish) but I'm hoping that Annie's sarcastic, smart ass attitude will be sufficient. BTW, sorry for the abrupt ending, but it was from how I was originally planning on doing this, but I had scratched the idea and didn't feel like rewriting the whole dang thing.

**EDIT: **Actually, I can confirm an Allied filled story in chapter 4. I know I messed up with Kiku's Japanesse-ness (by calling Annie "Annabel-san") but I explained the mistake in chapter 9 (I think) so I'm not going to fix it.

**Translations and Fun facts:**

"From today onward..." Random Ouran reference.

"August 19..." Yes, we share a birthday :)

"Drüben" Over there! German.

"Was ist das Private?" What is it Private? German.

"Wir nehmen zur Kenntnis..." We note that you captured the prisoner. More German.

"Ausbrecher?..."Lassen Sie ..." Escapee? Let me see that flashlight. German.

"Nun, was Sie..." Well, what do you know! It is him! German~!

"Private, Handschellen ihn und..." Private, handcuff him and bring him back to the gestopo. At this rate, I should just learn German.

"Herr" Mister. German.

**Next Chapter: **Annie tells the Axis powers a little about her past and ends up finding out a little secret about them as well.

**Questions, Comments, Criticism? Review! It'll make me happy, and reviewing will be the only way to get me to write the next chapter.**


	2. The Iron Cross

**MW**: YAY! It's done! It would had been done weeks ago if everytime I tried typing this I wouldn't get messages from BFTL and SEK telling me to work on 265 days. Grr, I hate them so much. Also, I was looking at a WW2 timeline and realzied that I was WAY off on my order of events, so I had to change the first chapter as well. *sigh* You might wanna reread that last chapter. well reveiw anyways.

**Chapter Summary**: Annie tells the Axis powers a little about her past and ends up finding out a little secret about them as well.

**Warnings**: Language, refernces to violence

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing except Annie

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter Two~<strong>

**The Iron Cross**

* * *

><p>I was currently faced with a big decision: To wear the dress, or not to wear the dress-that is the question. Shakespeare should rewrite that monologue for me. It would make sense; Hamlet, faced with the decision of whether or not to swallow his pride and wear womanly clothes or to step out in solider get-up. It's a lot more depressing than talking about suicide.<p>

I sighed and reluctantly opened the door. The dress was folded neatly on the ground. As far as I could tell, it was green. Great, my least favorite color. Don't get me wrong, I think it's lovely the way it looks on trees and stuff, but it gets annoying seeing that color everyday! That and sky blue.

Getting back on topic, I took the outfit inside and unfolded it. I could already tell that it was going to be a little big on me. It was an intense light green with puffy sleeves that come haft way down my arm. It also had a frilly white apron and bonnet thing (I think . . .-okay, I actually have no idea what it is). The skirt was also way too long for me.

Seriously, if this Italian dude was going to cross-dress, couldn't he have chosen something a bit less girlie? Swallowing my pride, I pulled the thing on, discarding my military clothes to the side. Tomorrow I'll clean them and be rid of this gaudy outfit.

Someone started pounding on my door. "Mein Gott! Hurry up!" Ludwig yelled. Figures, it was that damn German. Fully dressed (minus that strange bonnet), I opened the door, hitting the man square in the nose. "Was zur Hölle!" he gasped, hands over his nose. "What was that for?"

I could give a snappy comeback like "You did just break MY nose." or "Ha! Not so tough now, pretty boy!" but I in a very good mood, so I just pointed out the obvious. "Idiot, you shouldn't had been standing so close to the door."

He grumbled something in German. He finally released his nose, deciding that it wasn't broken. Ludwig opened his mouth, prepared for some snappy comeback as well, when he suddenly started smiling at me.

Have you ever been smiled at by an overly serious, 5' 11" German whom you hold a grudge against? Probably not, but let me tell you, it's scary. "Um, why are you smiling?" I asked nervously.

He laughed. "You know, in that dress, you look more like a cross-dressing guy than a girl."

Did he seriously just go there? My whole teenage years, I had been deeply depressed about my lack of figure, and now this Nazi was just making it worse. I walked past him, acting as if it didn't hurt. "I hate you so much," I mumbled, heading down to the kitchen to eat. I could imagine him smirking in triumph at his victory.

The kitchen was old-fashioned-something that seemed to come straight from a medieval painting. Well not exactly medieval, more like early 18th century, but either way, old. The walls were a white succoto and the floor was covered in earthy-orange tiles. Like every stereotypical Italian household, there was a stone oven and no sign of any electronics, like a fridge. In the center of the room was a wooden table where Kiku and Feli were sitting. There was a large bowel of pasta covered in red sauce in the center. Their plates were already loaded, but the brunette's was the only one with signs of actually being eaten from.

"Hello Annie-san," Kiku greeted. "You look nice in that dress."

"Thank you-" I stumbled over my words, trying to figure out what to call him. I didn't even know what the "san" implied. For all I knew, "san" meant idiot. "-Mr. Honda." Best do it the English way.

Feli made a "Vee~!" sound and jumped out of his chair. He took my arms and began spinning me around in some sort of happy dance. "Vee~! You look just like me~!" he squealed happily. I couldn't tell whether or not if that was a good or bad thing.

Ludwig scowled. "You're over exaggerating Feli," he said, pulling me away from the Italian. He turned me so that I faced him, studying my face. "Verdammt," he swore. "You're right. Just add a curl and change the eye color and she could be a feminine version of Lovino."

I would love to point out that the German had called me guyish barely 2 minutes ago. I wondered what God struck him with to make him change his mind. But right now a more pressing matter was at hand: "Who's Lovino?" I asked, taking a seat at the table.

Feli automatically dished out some pasta onto my plate. "Lovino's my big brother!" he exclaimed happily. "He lives in southern Italy with Big Brother Sp-Antonio."

Ludwig huffed. "Don't forget to mention that he's a total arschloch."

Out of the little amount of German I actually new, I actually knew that word. I was suddenly very interested in this older brother of Feliciano's. "Why's that Ludwig?"

Kiku answered for me. "Lovi-san doesn't approve of Ludwig-san spending so much time with Feli-san and so he acts hostile towards him."

This guy just keeps getting better and better.

"Not just to me! He's a total brat to everyone!" the German defended himself.

There was a sniffle and we all grew silent. We looked at Feli, who's staring down at his lap as he trembled slightly. I quickly searched for something to say, anything comforting, cause frankly, I HATE seeing grown men cry.

The blond beat me to it. "I'm sorry Feli," he said, patting the other man on the back. Another moment in which I could have made an "aw" sound. So sweet. But Kiku shot me a look that read "Don't you even think about it". Damn.

The Japanese shrugged and took another bite of his meal, which I would like to say, he was eating with chop sticks. I cleared my throat. "I have an excellent idea," I declared. "Let's change the subject."

Feli's manner changed instantly. He perked up, smiling. "Annie!" he exclaimed. "What's you're big brother like?"

I blinked. Okay, how the hell did he know that I had a big brother?

Ludwig read my mind, saying, "We did a background check on you."

I nearly chocked. "W-what?" I gasped, afraid of what he might had discovered. "Why?"

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Do you really think that I would hire a maid without check her background first?"

"Well you're kind of paranoid." He frowned at me. I smiled in my success and took another bite. "Well my older brother's name is David," I started, searching for a place to begin (that was kind of contriadicing). "He's okay I guess. He left for boarding school when he was ten and I really haven't talked much to him since."

"Oh." This obviously made Feli uncomfortable. "Do you have any other family members?"

I took a deep breath. Here we go . . . . "My Mother, Mia Rossi, was a native of Southern Italy when she met my Dad, Patrick Henson. He owns a successful oil company in England and America. He was there on business when he met her. They fell in love and had David and Me. Around the time I was 8, my mother died from a mugging-gone-wrong and we moved back to England. Later, he married an American model, Abigale Parker, who also had another child, Rosa Parker. I liked Rosa; she was nice, but Abigale was a demon. When I was ten, I was sent to boarding school in America as well. I did a two years of college before taking a vacation in Germany and getting stuck here."

Okay I have to admit, it wasn't the complete truth, but a background check would only reveal so much.

Luckily, Ludwig didn't see through my little white lie. He nodded, saying, "Alright, didn't expect your life story."

"Didn't expect you to listen," I replied evenly.

He frowned, his eyebrows creating creases in his forehead. He loudly placed his silver ware down on the table. "Well," he said. "It's late and we're all exhausted." I took a hint.

"I'm going to bed," I said pleasantly, scooting out of my chair.

* * *

><strong>November 15, 1941<strong>  
><strong>My Room?<strong>

Like before, Kiku showed me to my room. It was a little big, with a queen-sized bed, a wardrobe, a fireplace, and seating area with my own couch and armchair. The carpet was this odd green color (how ironic) and all the wood in the room was a chestnut shade. The walls were a creamy white color. There was also three semi-large windows along one wall, covered by drawn curtains in the same awful color as the carpet. Seriously, what is up with green today?

I didn't bother changing my clothes (since there was none to change into) or brushing my teeth (since I had no toothbrush). I just climbed into the bed, mildly aware that I was in a foreign room. As much as I hate to admit it, I kind of miss my old room back at my father's mansion. It was maybe a little smaller than this room, but it was filled with familiar items, like my boo-OH SHIT!

I sat up abruptly searching pockets that weren't there. Where was my book? My heart beat picked up rapidly. I need that book! From the corner of my mind-the part not filled with my utter confusion-I remembered sticking it in the pocket of my military jacket . . . which was with my other clothes in the bathroom. I swore and flew out of bed, not bothering to turn the lights back on.

I silently opened the door and took a peek outside. The hallway was dark, but there was a light from down stairs, along with the sound of hushed voices. I wonder what my 'masters' are talking about, I thought curiously. But I let it alone. I crept across the hall and into the bathroom. Flipping the switch, the lights flickered on, revealing something unexpected.

No, no one was using it (you perverts), the clothes were just gone.

I swore. Where were they? An idea crossed my mind. Was it possible that Ludwig had them? Knowing him, yeah. Angered, I walked out to the hallway and to the stairs. Before I was able to take the first step down, I started to notice what the men were saying.

". . . will happen if she finds out Italy," Ludwig said. I squatted in my spot, intrigued at what they were talking about.

"Vee~! I know, but I hate calling you Ludwig," Feli replied. Wait, didn't Ludwig call Feli 'Italy' just then? And by 'she' did he mean me?

"I know, but we have to do it," Ludwig replied evenly. "I have a feeling she already suspects." Wait, do I suspect something? No, not really, but now I do. Thank you, Ludwig!

"Germany-san, the outfit is legitimate," Kiku said. Were they looking at my uniform? Oh no . . .

"It is? Scheiße! So what was she doing posing as a British solider?"

I could imagine Kiku shrugging. "No idea." There was a silence. "Well I think we found out all we are going to . . ." I smiled in relief. So they didn't find it. I stood, ready to walk away, when, "Wait, what is this?" I froze. Why must God torture me so?

"Japan, is that a book?" Ludwig asked. My blood ran cold. No, no, no, no!

"Hai." The sound of them opening the book was plain. It was taking all my will power not to run down to them and bust their heads open. It wasn't the book I was concerned about, more like what I hid in the book. But maybe they wouldn't find it.

"Vee~! Look there's something caught in the pages here!" Feli exclaimed. My heart skipped a beat. Of course they'll find it! Why wouldn't the world be fair for once?

Without thinking, I dashed down the stairs and into the living room, where they had gathered. Kiku was sitting in an armchair, clothes in hand while Ludwig and Feli were peeking at my book. They all peered up when I came in. "Don't touch that!" I gasped, trying to reach it from behind the coffee table. Ludwig saw it coming and easily held it out of my reach.

"How much did you hear?" he demanded.

I was desperate, but not stupid. "Why did you take my clothes, you pervert!" I replied.

He frowned-when has he ever smiled? "How much did you hear?" he repeated.

I sighed and choose a spot in their conversation. "That you're curious about why I was a British solider," I said.

Lucky for me, I choose the right part. Ludwig took a second to go over the conversation in his head. His relief shone brightly in his eyes. "Alright," he threw the book to me. I caught it nicely. I took a moment to look it over. As far as I could tell, it wasn't damaged, but . . . "Now tell me Annie, why is this in the book?" I slowly looked up, and saw the expected sight. Dangling from a silver chain was an Iron Cross.

I bit my lip. Damn it! He caught me. I sighed and took a seat on the table. "My Mom ripped that necklace off the man who killed her."

The blond nodded. "Right," he said, mimicking my sarcasm. "Am I to believe that someone who received the honor of an Iron Cross killed your Mom back when it wasn't even an official metal?"

I should probably explain what an Iron Cross is. The Iron Cross was established in 1813 in Prussia as a metal meant to distinguish those who were brave and such. In 1939, Adolf Hitler restored the Iron Cross and continued the tradition of it being the German version of the Metal of Honor. Now you know.

"I don't expect a pretty boy like you to understand," I snapped.

He sighed. "Whatever. Now, one more question and you'll get this back." He didn't give me a chance to object. "What were you doing walking around as a British solider in Germany anyways?"

This time, I had a lie prepared. "Well, I came Germany for vacation, and got stuck there when the war started. In the end, I found it to be much safer as a guy then as a girl." He tossed the necklace to me. Without a that, I left for my room. I was tired and sick of having to give away so much secrets. As I opened the door, I heard one last snippet.

"Don't you and Gilbert have necklaces like that?"

Interesting, but I'm tired and need to go to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>November 16, 1941<strong>

**My Room**

The sweet noise of Feli yelling, "I'M AWAKE! I'M AWAKE!" woke me from my pleasant dreams. I groaned and pulled my sheets over my head. It was too early! I lay there, eyes squeezed shut, before even realizing that I had no idea what time it was. I groaned a turned to the clock on my bedside dresser: 8 o'clock. Crap, I should had been up earlier! When I was at the POW camp, I was up at dawn every morning.

Who knew that Italians made one so careless?

I tossed the blankets off and got out of bed. As mentioned earlier, I had slept in the ever girly garments given to me by Feli. Unfortunately, this is my only outfit. I scowled and tried to smooth out all of the wrinkles in the skirt. Smoothing out my hair, I opened my door to see Ludwig dragging a newly awakened Kiku and a still sleeping Feli down the hall, saying something about the need for them to train. What was really amazing was the fact that even though he was sleeping, Feli was standing perfectly upright. How the hell does he DO that?

"Good morning," I greeted innocently. Yes, you heard (read?) me right. I wasn't going to be evil and torture Ludwig so early in the morning.

Ludwig, who was wearing a black wife beater and military pants, turned to me. "Guten morgen," he greeted in return. I frowned. He DID know that I couldn't speak German, right? From the smug look on his face, I would take it as a yes.

I gritted my teeth. I tried to be nice and he just stabed me in the side. If we're playing a language war, then fine by me. "Che cos'è?" I asked "Voi dite che posso bruciare tutti i tuoi vestiti?"

This time he frowned. "How is it that you can speak Italian and English but not any German?" he asked.

"I try my best not to learn 'Idiot'," I clarified. That made him truly angry. I didn't give him a chance to reply. "Oh, and I was wondering what my tasks were for the day."

Kiku pushed him aside. Thank God for that; I was afraid of what he'll order me to do in his fit of anger. "Ohayo, Annie-san." he greeted. "Can you please dust the downstairs, sweep the floor, and have lunch ready by the time we finish training?"

"You're training?" I asked.

Ludwig scowled. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Well it's November, and it rains a lot during this time. You're probably going to get rained on."

The German laughed. "Wars don't stop for a little water," he scoffed. He took his two victims and began dragging them down the stairs. "And neither will I." I watched him as he left. I feel so sorry for the poor suckers.

* * *

><p><strong>November 16, 1941<strong>

**The Kitchen**

It was a little after noon, and I was clearing away the lunch dishes. As I had predicted, it started to rain around eleven. I was busy cleaning the living room when I heard Feli squealing at the sudden down pour. Poor guy, I could hear Ludwig yelling at him to run faster from inside the house. They came back, soaking wet, to a nice bowl of Pasta e fagioli (an Italian soup for all you Americans) that I had personally prepared myself. "You should've made wurst," Ludwig complained, taking a sip of the meal anyways.

"Deal with it," I had snapped in reply. The rest of the time was spent talking about current world affairs. Apparently, Feli had no idea why taking the Russian town Rostov was so important. It kind of got me thinking.

Everything about these people are strange, I thought, scrubbing on the pots I had used. Their apparent military jobs don't technically exist and what was up with the name calling yesterday? If I was right, then Feli was Italy, Ludwig Germany, and Kiku Japan. All of their nationalities.

"Annie-san?" Kiku's voice broke my train of thoughts. He stood at the doorway, as calm and emotionless as ever. Made me wonder how long he had been standing there.

I stared at him."Yes Kiku?"

"Would you like to help me with a bit of practicing?" he asked politely. What was with him and politeness?

Either way, I was curious. "What kind of 'practicing'?"

"My katana. I would like a sparring partner."

I couldn't help but reflect back to the day I was recaptured. Kiku had used his sword against me, but he didn't use any of his techniques. I would love to see them. Still . . . "But I don't use swords," I pointed out.

"It's alright; I believe that you will still put up a very good fight."

Hesitantly, I shrugged. "I guess so."

Even though his facial expression didn't change, I could still hear the excitement in his voice. "Great. Go get changed into the clothes on your bed and meet me outside."

He left before I could exclaim, "In the rain?"

* * *

><p><p>

* * *

><p><strong>MW<strong>: Well that was kind of boring. This was going to be longer, but I just wanted to post this now before I forget.

**Translations and Funfacts**

"Mein Gott!" My God! German

"Was zur Hölle" What the hell. German

"Nazi" The current main political party in Germany. I mean no offense to anyone with that. In this case, it would be the same as Annie calling someone a "Democrat" or "Republican".

"Verdammt" Damn. German.

"Arschloch" Asshole. Well, aren't I just teaching you all the German swears.

"I have an excellent idea..." A reference to Alice in Wonderland.

"Hai" Yes. Japaneese.

"Guten morgen" Good morning. German

"Ohayo" Good morning. Japaneese

**Next Chapter**: Kiku and Annie have their fight, which eventually leads to Ludwig trying to punch Annie in the face as well.

**_REVEIW~!_**


	3. The Monster

**MW: ***Does victory dance* Yeah, beat that! I totally got this chapter out in time! I am so awesome! (I made a deadline for today, and I made it!) Well this chapter is packed with a lot of information for our plot which will officially pick up next chapter! Woot! Now review and thank BFTL for being awesome.

**Chapter Summary:** Kiku and Annie have their fight, which eventually leads to Ludwig trying to punch Annie in the face as well.

**Warnings**: Language, Violence, Blood, Flashbacks.

**Disclaimer:** Do I own Hetalia you ask? I say, sadly no.

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 3~<strong>

**The Monster**

* * *

><p><strong>November 16, 1941<strong> **The Backyard**

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked for the 5th time that day. I was standing in the middle of the pouring rain, in the mud, waiting for Kiku to finish stretching. Seriously, we could possibly catch a cold and die of ammonia out here and he doesn't even care. In matter of fact, the man seemed to enjoy it. I kind of makes me think that he trained of a tall mountain somewhere in Japan where the monks would train him in the ways of the ninja. Kiku nodded. "Hai. Training in the rain builds endurance," he replied for the 5th time as well. I wonder how he is able to put up with me for so long. I sighed and hugged my arms. For training clothes, I was given blue gym shorts that went down to my knees and a white shirt. I'm quite sure that all of you know what white shirts do when they get wet, so I threw my military jacket over it. In order to avoid being barefoot in the mud (as Kiku was doing right now) I wore my army boots as well. "You know, if you want to build endurance, then you should be shirtless right now." What? It made sense! "You'll like that, wouldn't you?"I frowned at the voice. Of course Ludwig had heard my constant complaining and decided to watch us from the kitchen door! I mean, wasn't there ever a time when he wasn't a son of a gun? Of course not, since you all just love that robust German. I grinned and faced the speaker. "Well you seem very excited at the thought of a haft naked Kiku," I resorted. Ludwig scowled. "Kick her ass, Kiku" he told him.

The other man nodded. "Hai." I look at him in shock. By his overly calm face, I could tell that he was serious. He looked at me, saying, "In Japan, we do not walk around without shirts on. It is disgraceful."

I rolled my eyes. Didn't he know what a joke was? "In England, men do not fight women," I replied, mimicking his monotone voice. "It is disgraceful."

Kiku handed me a stick. "You are no ordinary women," he replied. Aw, that was actually kind of nice of him. Who knew that the emotionally constipated Asian was such a flirt? "Anyways," he continued. "We must start the fight. For safety reasons, we will use sticks instead of katana." He moved into stance. "Are you ready?"

He was standing with his one leg behind the other, both slightly bent. He held the stick out in front of him with two hands. I copied him. "Andiamo!" I replied in Italian. I guess that he knew that it meant "Let's go!" since he nodded in acknowledgement.

However, we both stood there in silence, waiting for the other to attack. The rain made more noise than we did as it beat down onto our backs. "Vee~! What are Annie and Kiku doing?" Feli asked, taking a spot next to Ludwig.

Kiku glanced sideways at him, giving me a golden opportunity. I raised my stick ready to hit him, just to make contact with Kiku's. I probably not the only one thinking "_When was he able to move so fast?" _

I tried to overpower him, bearing all of my weight onto him. It didn't even faze him. Actually, he gave me a blank stare, as if to say, "Idiot." He released his stick and stepped aside as I came crashing down into the mud. Ow.

I felt the end of the weapon press into my back. "If this was a real fight, you would be dead by now," he stated plainly.

I groaned. Okay, I did not take Kiku to be the type to gloat. Then again, he said it in a way that merely suggested that he was just stating the facts. Why must I see the good in everyone expect Ludwig? "I know," I replied, lifting my face from the mud. "But I'm much better at fist fighting."

He offered me a hand and pulled me off the ground. "Really? How is that?"

I looked down at myself. I was covered head to toe in mud. "When I was in boarding school, I wanted to fix up my mother's old boat. So in order to earn some money, I part took in some brawls that the boys had started. Every time I won, I earned some money."

Ludwig laughed. For some odd reason, he thought my back story hilarious. "Am I to believe that someone like you can hold up against a full grown male in a brawl?" he asked, chuckling lightly.

I smirked. "Why?" I asked. "Are you afraid that you're going to get your butt kicked?"

He smiled and pulled off his jacket. He stepped out into the rain. "Well I bet you that you wouldn't last one minute in a fight with me."

"Is that a challenge?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"Only if you accept." We were now standing barely a foot from each other, me glaring up at him as he glared downward. Yeah, major height differences ruin the dramatic moment. Even so, I couldn't deny the fact that there was a little glint in his eyes that told me that he would not hesitate to beat me to a pulp. Truthfully, I was scared of it.

"Of course I accept," I replied, ignoring my concerns.

Feli made his signature "Vee~!" sound as Kiku rolled his eyes. "Even in my old age do I know how immature you two are acting." Either way, he collected his stuff and ducked back into the house, joining the Italian at the door way.

Ludwig and I faced either. "Andiamo," I said again. He nodded and took the first swing, a round house punch that would had landed on my face if I hadn't moved to the side. He was fast, but not as fast as Kiku. I retaliated and lunged forward with my own punch. I was intending to hit him in the face, but instead missed and jabbed him in the shoulder.

The man's tone shoulder was hard! Making contact with it sent vibrations throughout my body. He took my moment of distraction and punched my hard in the face, once again, breaking my nose. Seriously, it hadn't even healed fully, yet he was off sending blows to my face! The noise of the bones cracking again caused him to hesitate to land the follow up blow.

Ignoring the numbing pain in my face, I ducked down and l gave him a hooked jab right him the stomach. By reflex, he was forced to bend downward, putting his face in my strike range. My fist shot up and hit his eye . . . barely.

Although he would no doubt get a beautiful black eye from yours truly, I had unknowingly guaranteed my defeat. I was so focused on him landing blows with his fist that I didn't noticed him hooking his leg behind mine. Ludwig knocked my leg out from under me, causing me to lose footing and land flat on my back. Now my back would be caked in mud. He got onto of my and socked me in the face once . . . twice . . . three times.

By the fourth blow, I was out cold.

* * *

><p><strong>August 19, 1927<strong>

**13years ago**

"Annie, wake-up!" David hissed, shaking me back and forth. I groaned and turned my back to him. It was my birthday night, and I just wanted to sleep inside of our blanket fort. He groaned. "Annie, I'm serious! Something's happening!" I mumbled random gibberish, words that he took to mean to go on. "Mom yelled something a left through the back door. She screamed and dad came running down the stairs moments later with his gun! Annie! It might be the monsters! We have to help Dad!"

I was awake and sitting up at 'monsters'. Were the monsters after Mom? Silently, we both crawled out of our fort. We promised Dad that we'll help him defeat the monsters, and that was exactly what we were going to do.

The house was dark except for the light flooding in from the kitchen. We both grabbed our shoes and coats from the hallway closet. David took my hand and led me through the door. I was trembling. I was scared, but I willingly followed him. I had to help dad.

Our house is located on a beach. It isn't well known to tourist, so it had a pleasant, empty feel most of the time. But that emptiness became eerie under the dark, moonlight night. The black waves crashed down noisily onto the white sand in a terrifying contrast. Standing by the water were three figures on the beach: mom, dad, and some stranger in a dark coat. . . The monster! None of them realized that we were there. David and I took a few, slow steps onto the sand, towards dad. A man's voice whispered something harsh, and the stranger lifted his arm. . .

A gun shot fired through the air and my mom fell backwards, grabbing and ripping off the monster's Iron Cross. I shrieked and David fainted at my feet. Both dad and the monster looked at us, dad telling me to run as the monster started to stride to me. The world spun as I tried to figure out what to do. Should I run? Scream? But I can't leave David here!

I bit my lip and stepped in front of his limp body, arms stretched out as if to pronounce "you shall not pass!" The monster kept walking towards me, my father kept yelling for me to run. But I couldn't if I wanted to-he was only a few feet away. I stared straight at him, challenging him to come closer. He was only a foot away now. . .

One, two, three gun shots rang through the air. After each shot, a dark hole appeared in the monster's head and blood splattered onto my face. He stumbled, but then fell to the ground. It was silent for a few moments, save for dad recocking his gun and my heavy panting.

"Annie, step away from it," Dad said, raising his gun again. But I didn't; the world now only included me and the body. Dad killed someone. This someone killed mom. This some one's blood was on my face. It was all jumbled up in my head, I thought every possible thought, none them making any sense.

My eyes wandered down to the body. I shrieked. The monster lifted his face from the ground, sand sticking to the blood on his face. His ice blue eye glared at me as the moon illuminated his blond hair. He laid a hand on my shoulder. My already wide eyes stared at it; I was too afraid to move. He used it to lift himself off the ground.

He then did the strangest thing. He nodded at me before dashing pass me and into the night. Dad fired a few more shots before giving up.

I stood there in the sand, crying silently as I panted heavy breaths. The monsters, the ones that looked like humans, were real. One just killed mom. One didn't die when shot three times in the head. One had piercing blue eyes.

One will haunt my dreams forever.

* * *

><p><strong>Date Unknown<strong>

**Location Unknown**

I woke with a start. No, I didn't immediately spring up to sitting position; I just opened my eyes to find myself breathing heavily. I was drench in cold sweat, the kind you only get from fear. My ears rang and I felt numb all over, making the world seem surreal.

Although I could not see it, there was a new bandage over my nose. For a second, I thought that I was back in my old house. There, I only had to get up to go to college somewhere in the busy streets of London. But as my senses returned, I remembered all of the recent events of my life.

_"So I'm in my room,"_ I thought wearily, still not used to calling this foreign place that. From what I could tell, a day must have passed. The three windows were fully opened to a bright sunny world that showed slight traces of having been rained upon. It was a huge contrast to how I felt: dark, gloomy, remorseful.

Stiffly, I turned onto my left side, away from the window. I regretted that decision immediately. Not only did my body ache at every possible joint, but Ludwig was sitting in a chair right at my bed side. . . Reading from my leather book. My breathing stopped as I gazed at the man. He looked tired, as if he hasn't slept, but his eyes were held in complete concentration as he read steadily from the old pages. He held the book in one hand and the Iron Cross in another. I gritted my teeth-He can't touch that.

He closed the book and looked at me. I saw that I had given him a black eye on his right side. "Guten Tag," he greeted, smiling softly. There was a tone to his voice that I couldn't pin, one that told me to be weary.

"What are you doing here?" I asked with a slight moan.

"Well you started screaming a few minutes ago. Feli thought that you were being murdered, so I came in here to tell the man thank you." Although nothing in that sentence was very nice, I could tell what he was trying to say. Feli heard me screaming and became worried, forcing his German friend to stay here until I woke up. Very out of character if I may say. "Mind telling me what that dream was about?" He asked.

I shifted uncomfortably in my spot. That dream, that memory comes to me every now and then, mostly when I'm under some form of stress. "It's nothing really," I stated uncomfortably, adverting my gaze from him.

We stay in an awkward silence for a moment. Ludwig was the one to break it, saying, "That's one interesting book you have here." I kept my mouth shut and held a steady gaze as he picked the book back up again. He went on. "Monsters that look like people, who control people," he shook his head. "Hardly the proper reading material for a child."

"Why would you care?" I asked evenly. Nothing in my voice indicated anger; in fact, you could say that I sounded curious.

He shrugged. "I really don't-" He placed the book back onto my bedside. "-But there is something I do care to know." Ha, I knew it! There was just no way would he be here just to see if I was okay, even if it was for Feli.

I scowled. "Would I care to answer?" I asked.

Ludwig did something I never thought he would be able to do. He laughed. Shocking right? Kind of makes me wonder what he was been smoking lately. "I'm going to let you get away with that one," he said cruelly. "But I really do suggest that you pay attention." He leaned into me a little, so that there was barely a foot between our faces. His blue eyes glared me down as a smirk was drawn on his face. Over all, it was very intimidating, and by how uncomfortable I felt, it was working. "I was thinking about your back story earlier. And it occurred to me, you would have to be a complete idiot to walk around Germany as a British soldier. And you're a smart, right Annie?"

Oh no, he saw the hole in my lie. Damnation! Since when did he get so smart? He continued on, pretending that he didn't see the shock in my face. "So I did a little thinking. Perhaps you did something so stupid because you wanted to be captured. But why? Well according to the guards at your POW camp, you spent a lot of time with a private named James Fisher." I can't believe it; he dissected my story and figured out exactly what I was doing. "And someone would only do something so stupid for something very important, let's say, a message." I paled. "So I'll give you an offer. If you tell me what that message is I will find all the names of every person who was in possession of an Iron Cross the year your mother died."

Let's stop things for a second and go over what we just learned. Ludwig had just amazingly figured out my real reasons for coming to Germany. James Fisher had an important message for my father, one that I was sent to retrieve. So I went to Germany, posing as an enemy solider in order to be captured and thrown into the same camp as he was in. I got the message and escaped a few months later. Then I landed myself here in this mess, one which I could severely profit from.

As you may have expected, I'm out for revenge for the death of my mother. Although I didn't tell him this, the commander figured that part out as well and just offered to give me a list of possible leads. All in exchange for the message James Fisher gave me. This is a very serious decision, one that could possibly change the course of my-

"It just a number," I said. What? You actually thought that I was going to stay loyal to that pain in the ass I call 'father'? The only reason why I listen to him is because he is also out for revenge for mom. And besides, it's just a number, what could he possibly do with a number? "Fifty"

He nodded. "Fisher said the exact same thing."

If Fisher said the exact same thing, then. . ."What did you do?" I growled. I swear, if he laid a finger on him-

"No worry, he's still alive." Ludwig stood and pointed to a yellow envelope on the dresser. "Your names are in there. You have the rest of the day off, but tomorrow, I expect you to get back to your job."

I glared at him as he walked away, imagining the joy I will feel when I put a bullet in his head. Was I seriously that predictable?

He placed a hand on the door knob and looked at me, saying, "And a piece of advice, lies always have holes in them, holes that I will find. The truth however is the one thing the world cannot argue against, no matter how improbable it may seem. Annie, when you want to tell me the whole truth, I will listen, until then-" He flashed me a look that read pure evil. "-I will rip apart whatever life you had to find it." He waved to me. "Auf Wiedersehen."

. . .

You know, if it's any comfort at all, He just revealed an important fact. He was more powerful than I had originally suspected. If he had the ability to get a man tortured over nothing more than just a hunch. . .

Over all, I think that I had underestimated all of them. Kiku was a better fighter than expected and Ludwig was smarter than I originally thought possible (It makes me scared to think of who Feli really is). It's almost as if they're hiding something from me, which they are. Last night, they said that I was already 'suspecting' what they were off to. And this something makes them be nicked named after countries? God, this is crazy.

* * *

><p><strong>November 17, 1941<strong>

**Allied Camp**

A tall, yet young man shook his head. He was decked in a green military outfit with countless metals pinned to his chest. His face was drawn as he brushed his blond locks away from his eyes that were gazing down at the map before him. There were a few soldiers in the tent with him, all standing tall, but nervous. They all easily out aged the man, yet they all seemed to hold him in high regard-even the five star general.

"No, that wouldn't do," he had at last, shaking his head. "The Germans are going to see it coming a mile away."

The general nodded, saying, "What do you suggest the Commander Kirkland?"

"I think that Arthur just needs to relax and let the hero handle it!" The room stiffened as a taller blond came strolling through the tent flap. His blue eyes were hidden behind a pair of rectangular glasses and his blond hair was messy from constantly running his fingers through. He sported his own military suit and a bomber jacket.

Arthur scowled. His younger brother was always barging in on him like this, and always at inconvenient times. Even so, the other man was a super power and he'll need his help if he was going to win this war. "Alfred, America hasn't officially joined the war yet," he stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

The one called Alfred laughed. "I'm just waiting for a heroic reason to join," he stated. "And a desperate cry for help from Britain just might do it."

He groaned at buried his face in his hands. "Look, I appreciate you sending us all the supplies and soldiers and stuff, but unless you have something important to tell me-"

"But I do!" the American exclaimed. From his pocket, he pulled out a yellow envelope. "We have word from our spy in Italy!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You mean the one-"

"Yeah, that one! According to this, the Axis-"

This time, the older brother did the interrupting. "Men, leave us please," he ordered in a sever, yet polite tone. The soldiers saluted him and left, leaving the two brothers alone. Normally, Arthur would had scolded Alfred for being so careless with classified information, but the spies they had of Feli's house had so far yielded nothing of use and by the way Alfred was "freaking out", he knew that it was something good. "Alright America," he said at last, using his country name. Normal humans didn't know about them, so they only used their 'country' names in private.

"Well the spy says that there's someone else living with them at the house," America squealed excitingly.

Arthur, country named Britain, nodded. "Interesting. So who is it? Romano? Spain?"

"That's the thing!" he grabbed Britain by his shoulders and started to shake him. "It's a girl! And we have no idea who she is!" "A-a girl? You mean-"

"Yes! A human!"

The British man pulled himself from his brother's grasp. "Are they insane?" he demanded. "They know quiet well that humans can't know of our existence!" He groaned and rubbed his temples. He felt a headache coming on. There was only one reason he could think of for why they could break such a law. "So, whose girlfriend is she?"

America smiled. He just loved it when he knew more than the old man! "So far, we can't tell. Japan treats her with too much respect, Ludwig seems to hate her- he had even punched her last time I checked -and she seems wary of Feli." He reached into the envelope and pulled out a stack of pictures. "And from what I can tell, she ain't all that pretty."

England snatched the pictures from him. "Don't say that about women," he scolded. 'And would you use proper English for once?" He looked over them. America was right, she wasn't very attractive- not that he would say that out loud since gentlemen to don't insult ladies as such -but she also wasn't an eyesore either. In fact, the mysterious girl looked rather average. The picture he held was of her in a green dress. If it wasn't for her very slight figure and feminine style, he would her to be Romano.

He flipped to the next picture and noted her work out clothes. "She's very guy-ish," he noted, looking at the bandage over her nose. "Must be a fighter too." He paused and squinted, trying to get a better look. "Bloody hell," he muttered. America, who had been idly toying his gun, looked up at him. "She's wearing my military jacket!"

"Dude, she's British?"

"Maybe, she looks too Italian though." He sighed and handed the pictures back to him. "Get Russia on her tail. Tell him that we need her alive and capable of talking." Sadly, the last part was necessary. The last time they told their Russian ally to fetch someone for them, he beat the man to the point that you could barely call him human. The terrible part was that he was able to keep him alive.

"You got it Dude, but..." His brother trialed off, considering how he was going to phrase this. "If she does know about us, then we'll have to kill her. So why do you want her alive?"

"Simple. She might know something about their secret military plans."

* * *

><p><strong>November 17, 1941<strong> **The Backyard**

I sighed and took a seat on the patio chair. I still had the rest of the day off and the 'masters' were preoccupied with other matters. They were so busy, that I could barely get a date and time from them. Luckily, Feli was kind enough to throw my dirty clothes into the washing machine. Sadly, this left me with no choice but to wear his gaudy green dress again. With nothing else to do, I figured that the best next course of action would be to read the names in the envelope Ludwig gave me.

It was around noon time, and the sun had dried up most of the rain. I probably won't see the sun again for a few more days, so sitting outside on the porch was the best idea. Slouching slightly in my seat, I pulled out the sheets of papers. I let out a sigh when I saw the language: English. I was afraid that being the pain-in-the-ass German he is, he would have given me the information written in German.

I quickly scanned over the stack. Each paper had a huge list of names in small print. On the front page, there was a note stating that the Iron Cross was award to over 4 million people by the Prussian government during the First World War. Right now would probably be a good time for some quick history on Prussia. Well not all of the history (that'll take too long) just the relevant part.

Starting on the year 1871, Prussia was increasingly merged into Germany. However, it wasn't effectively published until 1932. So when I said that the Iron Cross was not an official metal until 1939, I meant in Germany. Ludwig had mentioned that, which lead me to believe that I could out smart him, since the metal was in use by Prussia a century before. Hopefully, that made sense, if not, go ask your local German.

I groaned, he just had to make my life difficult.

From inside the house, I heard a yell. "No Feli! It's not okay for him to come!" Well speak of the devil, it's Ludwig!

"Wa~! But Luddy," That was Feli, and by the sound of it, he was crying. "I just want to see Big Brother again~!"

There were soft footsteps. "Feli-san, is Lovi-san coming to visit?" That one was obviously Kiku.

"Yeah, him and Antonio, but Luddy doesn't-"

There was a groan. "No Feli, its fine." Poor guy sounded defeated. "He's coming next week, right?"

"Vee~! Yeah."

I could imagine Ludwig giving the smaller man a hug. "Okay, just give them a warning, alright?"

I couldn't help myself; I made an "Aw" sound and held it for a few notes. I heard Kiku snicker as Ludwig popped his head through the door, yelling at me to shut up. I laughed.

* * *

><p><strong>MW: <strong>Man if I knew that the Iron Cross was going to keep popping up randomly, I would had named this Fan fic after it. Oh well. Anyways, we just got some new characters, and even more are coming next chapter *squel* So excited. You're reveiws and story alerts really kept me motivated here, so even more would be fabulous! (Plus Sek is so jealous since 265 Days has more chapters than this, yet has less reviews and chapters. She's so funny when she's upset~!)

**No Funfacts or Translations here!**

**Next Chapter: **As Lovi and Antonio make their first apperence, Russia closes in on Annie.

**Review~!**


	4. Liguine Cannot Replace Spaghetti

**MW: **I am amazing, you want to know why? I finished this a week before my deadline! That's amazing, since this chapter is so long! It just makes me want to cry tears of joy :') Moving on, everyone's review and story alerts were amazing! I even replied to two of them (replying is something I really don't do) But one comment made me realize that I really should explain a few things. This is "Slightly AU" since when coming up with this story, I asked myself two questions. The first one was "How do I make the craziest OC ever?" and the second one was "If Hetalia was mine, what would I had done to the mytho?" Because of that second question, I created my own take upon all of the characters of the series and the situation they live in. So, in conclusion, things are a bit different in this FF, but no one should be OOC.

The story itself is dark, but because of Annie's sarcasim and smart-ass attitude, it's going to seem just the opposite. Although I am in Honors 9 English, I suck at grammar and spelling, so if you see any mistakes, please tell. Also this is a Fanfic, therefore I'm going to have fun with this. I will try my best to keep this historically accurate, but true to the ways of Hetalia, this will be done "with a lose nod to history".

Well that should clear somethings up. The previous chapters are going to be grammaer and spelled checked soon, so hang in there~!

**Chapter Summary:**As Lovi and Antonio make their first apperence, Russia closes in on Annie.

**Warnings**: Language, Violence, Angst, Sarcasm

**Disclaimer:** Do do not own Hetalia, reason number one why this is AU

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 4~<strong>

**Liguine Cannot Replace Spaghetti**

* * *

><p><strong>November 27, 1941<strong>

**The Living Room**

Have you ever had that undeniable feeling that you're being watched? Like seriously, every single moment of your day? Man, I've been spending too much time around that paranoid German. Or maybe it's the fact that I'm calling Dad that's making me so jumpy? Did I forget to mention that? Well it's pretty important, so I might as well explain.

Today, Feli's older brothers, Loviono and Antonio, are coming. They're going to be here for a while, so that'll mean that Ludwig would have to stall Kiku and Feli's morning training secessions, which means that this is my last morning alone for a long time, thus it would be smart to call Dad up and give him the damn message I risked life and limp to obtain.

I sighed as I waited for someone to pickup on the other end. So far, it hasn't been so bad here. I actually don't have a lot of work to do, leaving me bored half the day. It wasn't until a few days ago did I find a good past time. Be amazed-it's cleaning. That's right, the maid is so bored that she has to actually clean to keep busy. At least it's a fun project.

While exploring the many crevasses of the villa, I found a library. It's was covered with dust and spider webs and looked to had not been used in centuries. I'm a fan of reading, so the smart thing to do would be to clean it and read the books in there. See, you really can kill two birds with one broom! Or is it stone?

"Hello?" The voice broke my thoughts. It was a young man's, definitely not Dad's.

I cleared my voice. "Is Patrick Henson there?" I asked, trying to sound formal.

"He's in a very important meeting right now."

Damn it, of course he is. With a growl, I gave a defeated sigh. "Tell him it's Annabel He-"

I wasn't even given a chance to finish. "Annabel? You're alive?"

"Obviously. Now can you put Dad on the phone." The man muttered something in agreement before telling me to hold. I was left to stand stiffly, glancing out the window to see if the 'masters' were still training. Luckily yes, Ludwig had his pupils doing push-ups, something Feli was failing terribly at.

"Annie?" a different voice asked at last. This one was much older than the last.

"Hi Dad," I replied lazily. "And before you start, yes I am still alive, yes I have the message, and no, I cannot come home just yet."

Dad laughed. "Yes, you are my daughter," he said merrily, something that is completely out of character for this grumpy old man. "Always getting straight to the point, but let's talk about those points for a minute. I haven't heard from you in months, we all thought that you were dead."

Yes, he turns into a caring parental figure whenever my death is inevitable. "Well I nearly did, but I made a contract with the devil." That part was true. I did make a contract with Ludwig, who is currently my equivalent of Satan.

"Always skimpy on the details. So what's the message?"

"Fifty." If any of you remember, the message is just a number.

I could imagine him nodding. "Yes," he said, sounding a little more stressed.

So it's a bad thing. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking. . ." He didn't voice an objection. "But what does the number mean?"

He sighed. "Well Annie, since you are the one who retrieved it, then I might as well tell you. It's the approximate number of HETAs in Europe right now."

My heart dropped. Amongst the Society, the members recognized that the Monsters are officially named HETA. I don't know about you guys, but for heartless beings, that is a pretty lame title (reason number one on why I have been referring to them just as 'Monsters'). "Fifty?" I gasped. "That many?"

"Yes. Now my dear, what does the number fifty mean to the rest of the world?"

He'll only ask me that if I knew the answer. I bit my lips as I searched my head for a connection. Fifty, fifty, fifty. . . "There are fifty countries in Europe."

"I knew you were smart. Now, does that answer your question?" My mind was still swimming from the number. Fifty? That many? And in Europe alone? I thought that there would be less than that in the world alone! When I didn't reply, he went on. "So Annie, why is it that you can't come home?"

I sighed. If I refuse to tell him, he'll either play the "I just told you what the message meant" card or the "I will have your face posted across Europe in a week" tactic. It was best to just tell him. I told him of my adventures with the Gestapo and how I ended up being a maid.

"Hmm, I see," he said once I finished. "And you said that their names were?"

"Kiku Honda, Feliciano Vargas, and Ludwig. . ." I trailed off. A crazy thought just occurred to me; I have no idea what Ludwig's last name was. If I recall correctly, even the Privates called him 'Ludwig'. "I don't know his last name."

"Well that is an odd trio."

I laughed. "Yeah." I gambled my chances for a second, deciding whether or not it would be a smart move to reveal this piece of information. I quickly added, "I even caught then using these we rid nicknames:" I laughed again. "Germany, Italy, and Japan."

"Their nicknames are countries?" There was enough shock in his voice to concern me. Something told me that he knew why that was, and the thing is that he isn't going to tell me. "Annie, tell me right now where are you exactly!"

I shrugged. Yes I know that I'm talking to Dad on the phone, not face to face, but I really couldn't help it. "I don't know Dad," I said lazily in my best innocent voice. "I'm not quite sure where I am. . ."

"Damnit! Annabel Milano Henson! I swear, if you don't tell me right this instant-"

Walking back to the house was Ludwig, Kiku, and Feli. They couldn't see me on the phone with him. If Ludwig gets even the slightest whiff of what I told Dad, I was dead. "Well Dad, I just wanted you to know that I'm fine and that you shouldn't worry," I said it quickly over my father's threat. "Bye Dad, talk to you soon!" I slammed the phone back into the receiver just as the door was opened.

"Vee~! Annie~!" Feli ran across the room and bear hugged me. "Lovi's coming today~!"

I smiled, acting as though I hadn't just talked to my worst nightmare. "I know," I replied, giving his hair a good ruffle. "I'm excited to meet him." There is one thing that I have discovered. When talking to Feli, you have to treat him like a little kid. It's funny since he's older then me by a few years.

He released me, suddenly conceiving an idea. "Vee~! I'm going to make him some pasta~!"

There was a sigh as Ludwig placed a hand on his shoulder. "Feli, we had pasta last . . ." he trailed off. The Italian had given him a teary eyed pout. The German's face softened. He groaned. "Alright, go ahead," he said, defeated. He swirled and dashed off to the kitchen, leaving Ludwig and I alone.

"So, who were you talking to?" the blond asked. His eyes had a glint to them, one that dared me to lie. The last time I lied, he was able to piece it apart. Truthfully, that was embarrassing.

I shrugged. "I called my father-" Ludwig glared at me. "-And told him not to send his countless bounties hunters across Europe in search of me."

He sighed. "Whatever."

Kiku peeked his head into the room. "Ludwig, Lovi-San and Antonio-San are going to be here in a few minutes," he said. Like usual, there was nothing in his voice to indicate his emotions.

The German cursed. "Verdammt das Arschloch," he muttered before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. His face changed, suddenly looking like the commander he was. "Kiku, you and Feli will keep them busy while I change into proper clothes." Kiku nodded. Ludwig started to walk away, but paused. "Annie, would you put on a dress?"

I scowled. "What's wrong with this?" I asked, motioning to my white slacks and blue blouse. Before you ask, yes I finally got new clothes. A few days ago, Ludwig had came out of nowhere and grabbed my arms. He held me still as Kiku took a tape measure and measured my dimensions. I was so mad by this sudden invasion of personal space, that I told Feli if he bought me anything with a skirt, I would kill him. He took it seriously, and came back with a wardrobe fit for a man; a very fashionable one at that (he's Italian, so he has to have a good taste). The next day, Ludwig went to the store and came back with skirts and dresses for me. I immediately shoved them into the darkest corner of my wardrobe.

"You need to dress like a proper woman." Wow, he didn't even hesitate with that one.

I raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you care?"

He groaned and banged his hand against the wall. "You know what?" he asked loudly, sounding thoroughly pissed off. "You can do whatever the ficken you want."

Kiku and I watched as he marched up the stairs and winced when he slammed his door. The other man gave me a very small scowl, saying, "You really must stop stressing him out so much. It's always stressful for him when Lovi-san visits."

I rolled my eyes. "I wonder why."

He didn't sense the sarcasm in my voice. "I believe in a way, he is jealous of Feli-san and Lovi-san."

Jealous? I didn't even know that he had any other emotions besides angry and serious. "Why?" This time, I actually sounded concern.

"It's just speculation, but Ludwig-san apparently didn't have a very good older brother, and Lovi-san cares deeply for Feli-san-"

"Vee~! Annie~!" Guess who that is! If you said Feli, then you are correct! "Can you take out the trash for me~! Prego~!"

I sighed, knowing that the conversation would have to be continued later. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed the trash bag, saying, "I'm your maid Feli, I have to do this." I lifted the bad over my shoulder and carried it outside to the trashcan.

It was overcast, showing signs of raining soon. I wasn't all that shocked, rain was common in Northern Italy during the winter. In my opinion, it was the best weather. Back when my Mother was alive, we lived in a house on the coast of Southern Italy, aka: mild weather all year long. However, every Christmas we would go to the city of Cinisello Baisamo to visit my grandparents for a week. The visits lasted until my Mother died and I haven't seen them since (they're probably dead by now), but the main point is that it was always raining.

But on the more important note, Ludwig has an older brother. Am I the only one amazed by this? I have a feeling everyone already knew that. The thing is Kiku said that Commander Grease Head (Get it? Cause his hair is greased back? Oh am I so funny!) didn't 'have a very good older brother'. I huffed at the very thought. _"He can't be as bad as David,"_ I thought bitterly.

"Fratello!" An angry voice from behind yelled. I barely had a second to react before someone smacked the back of my head. "Perché non mi hai detto che il bastardo di patate era qui? La sua auto è parcheggiata dannata ragione della vostra casa!"

I, being fluent in Italian, understood every word he said. He thought that I was his brother and was mad that I didn't tell him that the "Potato Bastard" was here. The only person here who could possibly have an Italian brother was Feli, so that means that this strange Italian was Loviono. Rubbing the back of my head, I yelled, "Lo non sono tuo fratello!" I'm not your brother.

Lovino paused for a second, before roughly turning me around to face him. His face was a near copy of Feli's. The only differences was his darker skin and hair and his brown eyes. God, even his single defiant curl was the same. A scowl was drawn on his face as he studied me. "Dannazione!" he swore. "Ti sembrava Feli da dietro." Damnit, from behind, you look like Feli.

He suddenly gave me a look full of distaste. "Che cosa ha il Bastardo di patate fare per mio fratello?" he demanded. What did the Potato Bastard do to my brother?

Before I could muster a reply, I was knocked away from him by a blurred shape. I landed flat on my bottom. I bit my lip, ready to yell at my attacker, when I saw what had happened. Feli was yelling "Grande Fratello!" as he held Loviono in a tight bear hug. Women's intuition tells me that Feli had knocked me over in order to reach his brother.

I forgave him. It was sweet, the way that these brothers cared for each other. I understood that Kiku meant now. Lovi was worried about Feli spending so much time with Ludwig (I truthfully didn't blame him). Meanwhile, Feli has missed the elder twin (I think, they look too alike not to be). Even I felt a slight pain of jealousy; David was never this caring about me.

"Aw Lovi~! That is so cute~!" Another person cooed. A hand was out stretched towards me, offering me help off the ground. As Lovi yelled for him to not call him that, I took a good look at the speaker. He was a Spainard, his dark skin and darker hair seemed out of place compared to the casual white shirt we wore underneath a beaten leather jacket.

I cautiously took his hand. The man flashed me a flirtatious smile and pulled me up, still cooing over how cute Lovi was. "Kiku!" he suddenly cried, dashing passing me and taking said man into his arms. "It's been forever since I last saw you!"

Kiku, who had just stepped out into the yard, squirmed a bit, asking him softly to release him. Poor guy, he must not be use to such affectionate gestures. The Spaniard dropped him, just to flash me another flirtatious smile. "And who might you be?"

I opened my mouth, ready to give a formal introduction, when Kiku beat me to it. "Antonio-san, this is Annabel Milano Henson, the maid Feli-san should have told you about." The maid, really? Couldn't he have at least _tried_ to make me sound cooler? "Annie-san, this is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, Feli-san's unofficial older brother."

Antonio held out a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Annabel," he said as I accepted it. He shook my hand happily for a second, before turning to the Vargas brothers. "Lovi~!" he called. "Come here and meet-Annie, right?" He gave me that flirtatious smile again when I nodded. It sent shivers down my spine.

Lovi, finally released from the hug, walked over to us, demanding that Antonio call him Loviono. He wore a scowl-glare combo as he looked me over. With him and the passionate Spaniard, I was feeling very uncomfortable. "Leave it to the Potato Bastard," he spat finally, now speaking fluent English.

I gave him a puzzled look. "Um, what do you mean by-"

"If he's going to keep a slut around, couldn't he at least have chosen a half-ass pretty one?"

My mouth dropped as each of his companions stated their complaints against that. I felt the anger swell to my head-did he seriously just do that? He just say that I looked like his younger brother, yet he calls me an ugly slut! Not just any slut, but Ludwig's! I didn't even bother trying to calm myself first. "What do you mean by that?" I demanded. I resisted the urge to add "shit face" afterwards.

He responded almost immediately. "I meant exactly what I said," he resorted, folding his arms over his chest. It was quiet obvious that Loviono was very different from his younger counter part.

"Perhaps you might want to take that back." I gave him a threatening glare as I raised my fist.

The Italian started to roll up his sleeves, saying, "You actually think that I'm scared of a skinny ass bi-" The rest if his sentence was muffled as Antonio placed a hand over his mouth and wrap an arm around him.

"I'm very sorry," he said awkwardly as he restrained a flailing Loviono. "He doesn't mean that."

His captive was able to move Antonio's hand away from his mouth, giving him enough time to say, "I meant every damn word!"

I shrugged, not letting the sting of his words show. "Like I care," I called as I walked back into the villa. It wasn't until I was clear of the doorway, did I show my anger. I clench my fist as I started to march up the stairs, muttering under my breath. "Damn Lovi. Who does he think he is? Saying stuff like that. He didn't even have a freaking rea-Ow!" That last part I said very loudly, having collided with Ludwig at the top of the stairs. He was wearing casual clothes, though they had a feel of being fancy. It was merely a long sleeved black polo and army slacks. I scowled. "Move it!" I demanded, trying to brush past him.

He block my way. "What has you in such a bad mood?" he asked, sounding slightly pissed himself.

There were a few tears stinging my eyes. Man, why did his words hurt so bad? "Ask Lovi," I snapped finally, ducking under his arm and into the nearest doorway: the library I was trying so desperately to restore.

It was dark in there once I closed the door; the room still needed a lamp. There were multiple bookshelves along the shelves and a single one in the middle of the room. There was a long window that gave whoever sat in the old mahogany desk a good view. So far, I had most of the dust gone, minus the top of the book shelves.

The desk and floor needed to be repolished, the books aired, but I should be able to get it done. I leaned against the center bookcase and immediately cursed. I had nearly knocked it over. Note to self: rebolt it to the ground. I went to the desk and sat in the old wood chair. Burying my face in my hands, I felt a few more tears leave my eyes.

I believe that it wasn't the insults that hurt, but more like the crushed hope. Loviono was suppose to be a caring older brother, not a complete jerk! Damn, he was at that same low life level as David. That good for nothing bugger. I remember a time when he wasn't like that, when he was kind.

* * *

><p><strong>April 5, 1928<strong>

**12 years ago**

Everyday, after school, David would play with my in the yard. We were both pirates, off to find some sort of treasure. One day, it was Black Beard's gold, the next it was the Holy Grail. We would go to the beach and play in the sand-never the water, every sailor knows that sly mermaids lived there and lured lustful seamen to join them, just to drown him in the end. But then the Monster came.

The day after Mom died, David awoke from his unconscious state. He didn't talk to me for a few days. At first, I thought that it was because he was embarrassed at fainting when the shots went off. But as time passed, people told me that he was just mourning over her death. It wasn't until we were walking back from school did I realize that he had changed forever.

"David~" I had cooed. "Let's play pirate!" He didn't answer me, but instead kept walking forward, his eyes glaring the road down. I didn't notice this and continued, "We still need to save the Princess of France from the Jolly Rodger-"

"Shut-up!" He yelled suddenly. "Just shut-up!" I wasn't even given the chance to back away. "I am sick of you and your childish games! I'm sick of you, I'm sick of Dad, I'm sick of Italy! And I'm sick of people always mention Mia!" I gasped-kids shouldn't call their parents by their first names. By now, he was just mocking her memory, saying in a high pitched voice, "Oh poor Mia, being mugged like she was! You and your sister must be so sad! Well _boo-hoo_! If they cared so much, then they should at least not do it in such a sissy way."

He pushed me aside and stormed away, yelling, "The whole world could just go fuck itself!"

I blinked. I had never heard that word before. Little did I know that he will forever be treating me with indifference. Never fully acknowledging my presence. Never to treat me with 'brotherly love' ever again.

* * *

><p><strong>November 27, 1941<strong>

** The Library**

Bang!

"Holy shit! Goddammit!"

I lifted my hands from my face and looked to see what had happened. The loose bookcase in the middle of the room? Knocked over. The person cursing their head off at the sight? Loviono. I scowled as I stood on my feet, ready to fire some insult at him, when he suddenly saw me. "I didn't mean to knock down the damn bookcase!" he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

I roll my eyes, saying, "Obviously. You're an idiot, but you're not that . . ." I trailed off, seeing him clear away some of the knocked over books. Was he trying to clean up? His eyebrows were knit together as he made a couple of crooked stacks. From watching Feli clean up in the kitchen, I could tell that the younger brother was also better at cleaning.

I turned around, just for a second, to open the old green curtains and let in some light. While I was at it, I opened the windows to let the air circulate. When I looked back at Loviono, I automatically finished my previous sentence, "stupid."

The man was trying to lift the bookshelf back on it's feet. He was struggling, as it was extremely heavy. Trust me, I know. I had knocked it over earlier that week and needed Ludwig's help to set it upright. I moved in to help him, just to have him snap, "Damn it! I can do it!"

I watched him struggle for a few minutes, him lifting it a couple of feet into the air just to drop it back down with a bang. I admit it, it could had been entertaining, if the Italian didn't seem to get more frustrated with every fail. "Dannazione," he cursed, trying to lift it for the billionth time.

I seized the moment and took a spot next to him, helping him lift it. Almost immediately, he demanded that I stopped helping him. "Shut-up and help me lift it," I grunted. After another minute of a back breaking struggle, we finally managed to set the shelf upright. I sighed and sank to the ground, relieved that we finally got it fixed.

"Why the hell did you help me?" Standing straddled legged was Loviono, looking more pissed off than ever. His lips were pressed together in anger.

"You needed it," I replied, giving him a roll of the eyes.

He cursed for a few more seconds, just to order, "You start cleaning up on that side and I'll get the other." I didn't reply as he walked to the other side of the bookshelf and started to gather the fallen books.

Nodding, I started to place the crooked stacks of books back on the shelves. We worked in silence for a moment. Occasionally, there was the noise of books being stacked upon each other with Lovi's incomprehensible mumbling.

"My mom used to own a boat called the _Arsenius_," I said out of nowhere. There was a thump noise at the name. "It was a nice boat, but after my Mother died, it was left uncared for in some British harbor. One day, when I was attending boarding school in America, I got the idea of restoring it.

"In order to earn money, I would get into brawls with the guys at school. Whenever I won, I would earn a bit of money. One summer, when I returned back to Britain, my sister noticed all of my bruises. She asked me happened and I was forced to tell her. The next day, there was 65 pounds at my bedside. Yeah it hurt my pride, but it helped. So there you have it, it's okay to ask for help." Oh God, did I just give him my life story? Damn it, I got to stop doing that.

My face started to burn up when he didn't reply. _I'm an idiot,_ I thought angrily.

"Everyone likes Feli better," A voice replied. It took me a second to realize that it was Lovi. His voice was nearly unrecognizable without his pissed off tone. "He's better at everything and-Goddamnit! I'm always knocking bookcases over!" I chuckled lightly. "But anyways, I don't give a damn about it. If people don't like me, then why should I care?"

I stood on my feet, finished with my side. "Right . . ." I said sarcastically.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"If my brother was better than me at everything, I would be bitter."

Loviono stepped out from the other side of the case. He stilled looked pissed, but his voice didn't match his expression. "Annie, you suck."

I shrugged and walked away. "Not for free."

It took him a minute to get the joke (if you can call it that). "Wait, get your ass back over here!" he ordered, doing his best not to sound humored. I walked back towards him. He bit his lip as he looked away shyly. "Listen here. The Potato Bastard is going to kill me if I don't say this-"

"By Potato Bastard, do you mean Ludwig?"

"Yeah. Anyways, he said that he'll beat me to a pile of shit or something of I didn't apologize. So-"

"Ludwig cares?"

"What the hell! Would you stop interrupting me!" I shrugged, and he continued. "The Bastard told me that although he hates you more than I do, I didn't have any right to make others cry. So there, I'm sorry."

This is worse than Ludwig rubbing my wimpiness in my face: having a guy apologize? When was he so into chivalry? Wasn't that more of a British thing? I stared at him blankly. "Whatever."

"What? Is that the only damn thing you got to-"

I waved and walked away. "Goodbye Lovi!"

He cursed some more. "Goddammit! Don't call me Lovi!"

* * *

><p><strong>November 27, 1941<strong>

** The Kitchen**

"Annie~!" Once I walked into the kitchen, I was met with a giant bear hug. Poor Feli was crying his heart out into my shirt. Like the child he could be, he wailed shamelessly as I patted his back. Antonio and Kiku were seat at the table with Ludwig at the pantry peering into the cabinets. They all peered looks at me, curious to see what I would do.

"What is it Feli?" I asked with as much motherly concern I could mange.

He sniffled, before wailing, "We don't have any spaghetti left~!" Seriously? All this fuss over the lack of pasta?

I didn't show my annoyance. "But don't we still have some linguine?" I asked. Every man who had the right to call themselves male cursed and covered their ears. AKA: Everyone except Feli.

Said Italian suddenly burst out into a big rant: "I can't make Grande Fratello's favorite meal with linguine!" He yelled, his voice reaching an impossible level of loud. I winced as he continued with, "That's like making Pesto without the basil; you just don't do it! A dish is nothing without the proper kind of pasta! It's like French cuisine without the wine! Wurst without the beer! British food without the char!"

"We don't purposely burn our food!" I interjected.

Kiku chorused, "It still tastes bad."

"Bloody hell!" I cursed. It was quiet amazing, even though Feli was lecturing me on the Ways of Pasta, he was still clinging to me. He seemed ready to start up again when Loviono smacked him from behind.

"Damn it Feli!" He cursed, watching his younger brother fall onto the floor. "You're her boss, tell her to go buy you some more!"

"Boss?" the other asked, tears lingering in his eyes. "Like Roderich after the Italian wars."

"Exactly." Italian wars? Didn't that happen centuries ago? And who was Roderich?

"Does that mean that I can step on her?"

Lovi and just about everyone else (including myself) smack our foreheads with varying degrees of annoyence. "Hell. No."

He sighed. "Vee~!" he said half-heartedly. Feli with that sad tone and puppy eyes combined with his cute pout made me guilty.

I placed a hand on his head. "I'll go to the store and buy you some," I said with a light smile. His expression changed immediately. His face was full with joy as he suddenly bear hugged me again.

"Vee~! Grazie~!" He cried. I swear, he was crying tears of joy. It took a few minutes to get him off of me. Another fifteen to actually convince Ludwig to let me go: his argument was that I might take off and try to leave Italy. I returned with the fact that if a soldier saw me, they had orders to shot me without question. Then he said that he wasn't going to let me take his car. I told him that I would use the motorcycle.

"You can ride a motorcycle?" he asked, his black eye gleeming in disbelief.

"Of course," I huffed. "My college boyfriend participated in some races and he taught me how."

He laughed. "You expect me to believe that anyone would be crazy enough to date you?"

I frowned and held up two fingers. "In case you were wondering, it went on for two years before I broke it off."

The German stared down at me. "Why?"

I opened my mouth, but then quickly closed it. The reason . . . "Can I take the bike or not?" I demanded.

Ludwig smiled in triumph. "Go ahead, just be back within the hour." Something told me that he wasn't going to let the matter rest. By the time I get back, he'll probably claimed that he tortured some colleague of mine to find out, then go all 'Gestapo Interrogator' on me again. I wasn't looking forward to it.

I went to the shed and pulled out the bike. It was a military one, a little dirty from the muddy roads, but still usable. I grabbed a satchel to carry my Euros and other items that would normally be in a purse. As I was strapping on the dark green helmet, a voice spoke, "You really should not be wearing white pants."

Antonio was right, the mud would make brown stains on the fabric. Said man stood at the doorway at the shed, leaning against it slightly as he gave me a smile. This one was not flirtacious, but rather kind instead. "Oh well," I replied, kicking the stand on the bike back up. "I'm afraid that if I go back inside without that pasta, Feli will freak out."

The Spainard laughed. "You're probably right." He moved aside as I pushed the bike outside. I had already checked for gas, so the only thing I needed to do now was leave. He placed a hand on my shoulder. "It might rain," he said. "Do you want to use my umbrella?" From beneath his leather jacket, he pulled out a pistol.

"What are you. . ." I stopped when I saw him wink.

"Kiku was worried that you might get soaked, so he asked me to give this to you."

I returned his smiled and grabbed the firearm, stuffing it into the bag. The Japanese man just went from cool to awesome."Tell Kiku that he's very kind," I replied. According to my contract, I actually wasn't allowed to have any weapons. However, I was not handed a weapon, just an 'umbrella'. You wouldn't get it until it happened to you.

Mounting the bike, I gave the man one last smile before driving off. I would had liked to spend more time with the man. I had met and kind of learned a bit about Loviono today, but not Antonio. The only thing that I knew for sure was the fact that he was a mentor towards Feli and he's a total flirt. Then again, he's Spanish and those Spaniards are very passionate.

Surrounded by these thoughts, I drove at a good a good pace. There was a small town a few miles off that I was heading towards. Apparently, Feli is on very good terms with the citizens with the town. They all seemed to love and adore him, especially the young women. Before you ask, yes, Feliciano, my childish boss, is a playboy.

The scenery around me zipped by in a green blur. The area was hilly with a dirt road leading me down hill. Lining up in a tall salute were ilex trees. Their branches created a great cover and would be shade if it was sunny outside. It truly was beautiful, Italy was gorgeous. I sighed. I hate to admit it, but I sort of missed Italy and the way it-

I flew off my bike and onto the ground. There was a sharp pain in m abdominal, and my head spined. Far off, I head the bike skid and crash. What happened? Moaning slightly, I peeled my eyes open and saw doubles. I must had hit my head hard, but even so, I saw my answer.

Strung across the middle of the rode was a rope, meant to flip anyone off their bikes if they hit it. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell how thick it was on the account that I was seeing about ten of them at once. There was no doubt about it: someone wanted me off the motorcycle and didn't care whether or not it hurt me.

"Well that was easy," A far off voice said. I could barely make out the outline of a giant in what I believed to be a brown trench coat.

I groaned and lifted myself off the ground and onto shaky feet. "Who are you?" I groaned, swaying a bit with dizziness. "What do you want?" I felt my side for my satchel and was relieved to find it. It meant that I had a gun to shoot this freak with.

The mysterious man laughed. "I thought that they'll tell you, da?" I could see, no sense, him coming closer to me. "Germany surely would've mentioned the ally he betrayed."

My sight cleared a bit and I saw is face a little clearer. Big nose. Violet eyes. Gray brown hair. A childish smile. Nothing added up about his apperence- he looked as childish he sounded evil (which was a big very). Slowly, things in my head started to click together.

Germany betrayed him. And I suspected that Ludwig had the nickname 'Germany'. This nickname was important since my Dad panicked when he heard it. And now I was being attacked because of it. It made all, yet no sense. "Who are you?" I repeated, drawing the gun from the bag.

The man took another step to me and was in my face. His large, gloved hands roughly grabbed my hand, squishing both me and the gun. "I am Russia," he stated plainly. "You understand what that means, da?"

I opened my mouth to say "no" when a cloth was placed over my mouth. It smelled funny to me, so I quickly shut my mouth and stopped breathing. It was a smart move, since he laughed. "You're human; you can't hold your breath forever," he taunted, eyes dancing. "Eventually the chloroform will get to you."

He was right, my chest was starting to hurt from the lack of oxygen. It would had been pointless to try to fight him; he was over six feet tall and seemed over three feet wide. Plus, it felt like my fingers were breaking from his strong grip. I growled, before snapping, "Fu-" At that moment, the chloroform got to me and I felt my conscience go under.

The last thing I heard him say was, "You're lucky that I'm not allow to hit you since. . ." Before I was waking up to find myself in another interrogation room.

Thought number one: If that Russia guy was an enemy to Ludwig, then I'm probably captured by the Allies right now.

Thought number two: Why does this always happen to me?

* * *

><p><strong>MW:<strong> Cliffhangers, God love them. I'm a little disappointed with how little Spain was in this chapter. On the brighter side, we had tons of character development! Next update might take awhile since my English teacher keeps on assigning big loads of homework, giving me no free time. Plus, Sek is demanding that I get back to regularly writing in 265 days. Gr, she's just jealous of all of my amazing viewers. So more reviews will be awesome. So, things are starting to heat up. Next few chapters are going to include a crap load of new characters. Looking forward to it.

**Fun Facts and Translations**

"Verdammt das Arschloch" Damn that Asshole. German.

"Do whatever the ficken.." Fuck. German.

"Prego~!" Please. Italian.

"Cinisello Baisamo" A city located in the Italian provence of Milan.

"65 pounds at my bedside" Roughly over a hundred American dollars.

"Goddamnit! I'm always knocking bookcases over!" A reference to World Series. Whenever ChibiRomano tried to clean Spain's house, he'll knock over this bookcase. Joke courtesy of BFTL

"Does that mean that I can step on her?" Reference to Axis Powers. Whenever Chibitalia disobeyed Austria, Austria would step on him.

"Grazie~!" Thank you. Italian.

**Next Chapter: **As things go from bad to worst with Annie, the Axis realize that their Maid is gone. Meanwhile, Arthur and Alfred try to figure out whose boyfriend their captive is.

**Review and receive a virtual cookie~!**

"ilex tress" A common tree located all around Italy.


	5. Captain America Leaves the Hero Bored

**MW: **Hey guys! I hate this chapter for two reasons. 1) It's too damn short 2) I accidently put up chapter 6 instead of 5, thus I have to now go back and fix it. Gr. Thanks for the reviews by the way!

**Chapter Summary: **As things go from bad to worst with Annie, the Axis realize that their Maid is gone. Meanwhile, Arthur and Alfred try to figure out whose boyfriend their captive is.

**Warnings: **Language, Blood, Disturbing Images, Torture.

**~Chapter 5~**

**Capitan America Leaves the Hero Bored**

**November 30, 1941**

**Feli's Villa**

"Germany." Said German looked up from his paper work. Japan stood at his doorway, face blank, but eyes hopeless. Three days ago, Annie left to buy more pasta and never came back. They hadn't realized that she was missing until Italy wanted to play hide-go-seek and noticed that their maid was gone. Naturally, Japan and Spain went out to the town and came back with an abandon motorcycle a few miles down the road. The soldiers at the borders all report not seeing her at any point.

He sighed and placed his pen down. "Anything new?" He asked. Romano and Spain's visit was spoiled by the girl's disappearance. Italy was forcing his elder brother to help with the search as Spain was employing his own means of search. He hasn't said much, but was instead hanging in the living room, waiting for a moment to be alone. Naturally, neither of the Italians were clinging to his arms.

Japan shook his head. "No Germany-san. Nothing."

The blond rubbed his hand through his hair in stress. "Damn it," he swore. "I swear if she slipped past the borders and into France I'll-"

"Germany-san," the other interrupted. "What do we tell Italy-san?"

Germany shrugged. "I don't know." He picked up the phone. "I just want to make one last-" he paused, having placed the phone to his ear. "Italy!" He roared, slamming the phone to the receiver. Japan gave him a strange look. "He's using the line to call the Allies!" he exclaimed.

_

**November 30, 1941**

**Presumingly the Allied Base**

_

Three days. Seventy-two hours. Four thousand, three-hundred, and twenty minutes. I have gone three days without food. . . and it's driving me insane! The last meal I ate was Ludwig's scrambled eggs with Kiku's rice balls. Just the thought of it gets my mouth watering.

Right now really isn't the best time for me to be thinking about food, but when you're stuck in a dark, windowless cell with nothing but a splinter covered wood chair, you're mind tends to wander. As I paced back in forth, I knew deep inside that it was just some form of psychological warfare. Leave your prisoners in isolation with no food or water or human contact for a few days and they'll break down. I only knew that three days had pasted since the one called Russia came into my cell earlier and gave me a very good heads-up.

"I'm coming back into a few hours," he told me with a creepy childish smile. "I'm going to start questioning you, so be prepared with your lies." His smiled grew wider. "Da?"

And he just left, leaving my mind to wander. He was coming back to 'question' me. So that meant I was either going to be interrogated or raped. Either way, I hope he brings food. I swallowed some spit and felt it slide its way down my parched throat. I hope the also bring water.

There was a clank as the door was opened. I seized my opportunity to dash out, just to see Russia step through the door. "Sit," he ordered, carrying another wooden chair with him. I growled and tried to spit at his feet, just to remember my dry mouth. Damn it. I took a seat in my chair as he gave his signature smile again and sat in his own-right across from me. So far, both torture and rape were still possibilities.

The man beckoned to someone at the doorway. Whoever it was closed the door, leaving me alone with the crazy sun of a g-

"What is your name заключенный?" he asked suddenly. I didn't understand what the Russian meant, but it was quiet clear what he was asking.

I bit my lip. This time, I was going to be a bit more careful with my attitude. Last time I pissed off my interrogator, I got a broken nose. "My name is important how?" I asked.

"Paperwork." I nodded. Didn't Ludwig and Kiku have the same dislike?

"Annabel Henson," I replied.

The Russian smiled. "Da. Shall we get started?" I waited a few moments for him to make a move. Russia didn't move an inch.

'What are you waiting for?" I had no idea why I was; I didn't want them to torture me.

"I would like to see if I can get something from you without violence first." Yay! No rape!

Nodding, I leaned back farther in my chair. "That all depends on the question."

"I'll make them simple," Russia said, pulling out a pipe from his pocket. "Da?" I stared at his hands as he idly fiddled with the piece of rubbish. Was that is weapon? His violet eyes met mine. "What were you doing at the Axis' hideout."

"I'm the maid."

He raised an eye brow, asking, "Just the maid?"

I nodded. "Just the maid. The Gestopo was going to kill me, but Kiku convinced Ludwig-"

"The Gestopo?" By the disbelief in his voice, I knew that Russia didn't believe me. "You're telling me that you got captured by the Gestopo and Germany saved you?"

I gulped and nodded again. Before I could do anything, Russia had grabbed my arm and twisted it to an awkward angel. I yelped in pain as his nails dug deep into my skin. "That bandage on your nose, it means that its because its broken, da?" I nodded. "Good, so that means you have ten seconds to give me a story I can actually believe before I break your fingers." he snarled.

My eyes were snapped shut as I held back another yelp. "But I am telling you the truth!" There was an unpleasant cracking noise as my pinky finger was broken. I yelled in pain. He offered me another ten seconds to change my story again. I repeated my reply. More fingers were broken. It wasn't until every finger on my left hand was broken did he change his tactic.

Russia pulled me to the ground, stomach down. "Would you like to know why I don't believe you?" he asked as he pulled out a dagger. There was the white pain of a knife cutting a blood line down my spinal cord, effectively cutting my shirt in two. "I know Germany and he doesn't pity people."

The knife was buried into my side. I screeched and started crying. "He doesn't pity "men-" another stab. "-children-" another "-Jews-" another "-or Russian soldiers." Each new womb left me with another flash of pain. It was so fast, so intense, that I wanted to come up with a lie to tell, a story he would believe.

But none came to mind.

He flipped me over, causing me to scream again. All of my body weight was resting on my fresh wombs. Russia brought his pipe into my field of hazy vision and, like a child, teasingly tapped it on my stomach. "Now, tell me the truth or this goes straight into your stomach." He gave me an overly joyful smile. "Da?"

**November 30, 1941**

**Allies' Conference Room**

_

Britain had his nose buried in some old book with very small print. Boring. China was on phone with his boss, discussing a military strategy. Boring. France all over an maid out in the hall. Boring. Canada was. . . actually, America had no idea where his twin was, but he really didn't care. What mattered to him was that his side kicks were being boring!

"Dude, I'm bored," he complained for the third time that hour, laying his head on the wood table at the center of the room.

His elder brother didn't bother looking up at him. "Then find something to do."

China, a slightly smaller man than the blond hanged up the phone. "You western countries are so immature sometimes," he said, giving a flick to his black pony tail. "You really must find something to do-aru."

There was a small voice from the seat next to the American. "What about that Captain America comic book you have?" Normally, the mysterious voice would've spooked him (not that he'll admit it or anything), but after the twentieth time of freaking out over it, he soon realized that it was his brother.

America shrugged and held up the book, displaying a cover page of the title hero punching Adolf Hitler in the face. "Finished it like three minutes ago."

France came back into the room, stuff the maid's number into his cloak pocket. This man was also blond, except his hair was longer and wavy and he wore a flashy blue outfit. He took a seat next to his Britain, slugging an arm around his waist. "Perhaps we should talk of more enlightening things," he suggested suggestively. "Like l'amour."

As Britain smack France, yelling at him to stop being such a pervert, America stood and smacked his hands on the table. "You're right France!" He exclaimed, causing said man to give a triumph wink to his oldest friend. "You should talk about our prisoner!"

"That's not what I-" He was caught off as a finger was pointed at China.

"China! Tell the hero who you think she's dating!"

The Asian country glared at him blankly, before saying, "Japan, obviously. I taught him well how to treat a woman with respect-aru."

"But he's living with Germany right now," Britain pointed out. "There is no way he'll let a girl into his house if he didn't like her."

France shook his head. "But mon aim, that guy can't say a word to a girl without stumbling over every other word." He smiled at a thought. "I know that she's Italy's girlfriend."

America gave an obnoxious laugh. "Innocent Italy? No way!"

The other gave a smile. "I taught him everything I knows about l'amour," he said. The phone started to ring.

Britian sighed and stood to grab it as Canada tried to state his opinion. No one listened. "Quite you gits," he snapped as he answered the call. "Hello?"

"Britain!" A loud voice exclaimed on the other side. "How have you been?"

The country sighed. It was Spain, no doubt calling to either talk to France or to harass him. "What do you want?" He snapped impatiently.

Spain sounded nervous on the other side. "Ah, well you see here. It's not what I want it's-" He paused as something inaudible was spoken. He waited until the phone was pasted to another person, someone the British man did not expect.

"Vee~! Britain, are you there~!" Italy asked in his trade mark tone.

He was caught off guard. His enemy was calling him? Why? Usually Germany makes these kinds of calls, but not the silly Italian. "Italy! Why are you-"  
>"A friend of ours is kind of missing," the Italian interjected. "I was wondering if you might help us look for her."<br>Britain gulped. "She?" He saw where this was going. He motioned for the rest of the room to hush down and join him over by the phone. They gathered and placed their ears close to the phone, France's body rubbing against the British man's in a perverted manner. He smacked him.  
>"Yeah. Her name is Annie, have you seen her?"<br>"Ah no. . . why?"  
>America whispered, "You're a terrible liar. Let the hero do this!"<br>Italy sighed. "Vee~! That stinks." There was a pause and another gruff mumble as the phone was switched again.  
>"Allies," a deeper voice addressed. The group groaned; it was Germany. "Are you sure that you have no idea where my maid went?"<br>This time, Britain laughed. "Wow Germany, it sounds as though you actually care."  
>"Drop the act Britain, I know you have her."<br>France stole the phone. "May I ask Germany what you plan to do to her?"  
>Germany sighed. "In case you idiots haven't realized, Annie, the girl you had kidnap, has no idea of our existence. All she knew is that she was working as a maid for three war commanders."<br>The Allies' eyes widen. Their prisoner knew nothing of their existence, that meant that she was not part of the war. Which means that they were in just as much trouble as the Axis were: They had involved an innocent human in their problems. France handed the phone back to Britain, not wanting to take the fall for it. The British man shot him a glare, before saying, "So she was there by her own will? We thought that you were holding her prisoner, since she did wear that British military coat." He over acted his innocencen voice. "Well she is perfectly healthy right now and perhaps we can schedule an exchange in a few days. Now excuse me, America just wet his bed again and I must clean up after him. Good day."  
>He slammed the phone back in the receiver before his younger brother started to shake him. "Are you mad?" he demanded. "I wet the bed! I have never done that!"<br>The other scowled. "Yes. . . you. .-"  
>China pried America away, saying "Aru! Stop shaking him!"<br>"Now if we are all done releasing sexual tensions, Russia is still interrogating the girl and we promised the Axis that we would return her unharmed!" Everyone stared at the Frenchman. For once, he was right.  
>"Bloody hell!" Britain cursed, storming out to the hall.<p><strong>November 30, 1941<strong>  
><strong>Interrogation Room<strong>

Russia scowled grew deeper. He was getting nowhere with this girl! She still insisted on her crap story. It didn't matter to him anyways, he was enjoying himself. It had been awhile since he had been able to just beat someone up. It was a pity though, she was nearly dead.  
>If he counted right, she had five broken fingers, 6 tab wombs, and now a pipe dug deep into the stomach. She past out a few minutes ago, an now he was just enjoying watching the blood seep from her body and into a puddle on the floor. "Your name is Anabel, da?" he asked no one in particular. It was silent.<br>He sighed and pulled his pipe from her body. Why did humans have to die so easily, it really just took away from all of his fun. The door was flung open with a bang. Russia looked at see his comrades storm the space. "What happened?" he asked uncaringly.  
>Their faces paled at the sight of the blood. "You went overboard-aru!" China exclaimed.<br>"Look, Britain dude." America placed a hand on his shoulder. "That is definitely not 'unscratched'."  
>France placed a hand on his shoulder. "Mon ami, we should just tell Germany the truth."<p>

Britain observed the scene carefully. His face betrayed nothing of shock nor fear. He'll hate to admit it, but when he was the Britannia, he spilt much more blood than this. "Is she still alive?" he asked. Russia placed a hand on her neck, checking her pulse. He nodded. "Then, we can fix it."

The room stared at him. He sighed, saying, "I'm going to use magic gits." He pulled out a hard cover book from his coat. "Now clear the room."

The rest of the Allies gave a unsure look before leaving the British man alone. He shut the door and got to work. Britian dipped his hand in the blood. Normally, he would use chalk, but if he waited any longer, he was afraid that she would die. He quickly drew his magic circle and opened his book to a predetermined page. Slowly, he started to chant, "Auxilium revocaveris sanaret" over and over again. His voice gained volume with each repetition.

Suddenly, the circle glowed and there was a flash of light. When it faded, there was still blood everywhere. However, his prisoner was breathing normally. Britain looked her over. all of her wombs were gone, leaving not a trace of scarring. He sighed and leaned against the wall.

That spell was difficult and used up much of his stamina. "You can come back in now," he croaked. Damn, he wasn't going to be able to use that spell for a while. His knees buckled as the door open. He barely saw his allies' shocked faces as his eyes closed and fainted.

_

**March 21, 1929**

**11 years ago**

_

The day was cloudy, the world threatening mist. We were a park in London, the capital being a few miles away from Dad's countryside mansion. A few months ago, we moved back to England. I started out hating it. "The weather is too cold," I would complain. "I can't even speak English."

Father would just give me a stern look. "Do not whine Annabel," he scold. I knew he was serious when he didn't use my nickname. "It's very un-lady-like." In a way, I feared my father. In the short time following Mother's death, he lost his joyful atmosphere. It seemed as though him and David were both plotting against me for some unexplainable reason.

He stood from the bench he was sitting at and waved someone over. This someone was a tall, slender woman with curling blond hair. She kissed him on both cheeks as a young preteen sharing her mother's attributes, stood alongside awkwardly. I knew this woman, she was Abigale Parker. I knew the girl next to her was her daughter, Rosa, bit I had never spoken a word to her before. Every time Rosa would say something to me, it was always in English, a language I didn't quiet understand yet.

Father placed an arm around her should, saying, "David, Annie, Rosa; I have a big announcement." We waited in silence as he enjoyed his dramatic paused. "Abigale and I are getting married."

I was shocked. Father, already remarrying? Didn't he love Mother? David gave a huff as I tried to say something. He was now going on about how Abigale was going to live with us, even though David and I were leaving soon for boarding school in America.

Rosa sat next to me, offering her hand, saying, "Non mi piace tuo padre." I don't like your father.

I looked at her hand, but then at her. She has never spoken Italian before though she wasn't very good at it. Her words had even shocked me a bit; Rosa always seemed to b a nice girl. Even so, I liked her. Hesitantly, my hand met hers. I cleared my throat and tried out my terrible English skills. "I do not like your mom."

For years afterwards, Rosa was never my stepsister, but a friend.

_

**Date Unknown**

**Location Unknown**

_

I was laying in a soft king size bed. "What happened?" I wondered as I sat up. The room was fancy, as if something from a king's palace. The walls were painted a soft blue and white trimmed everything. My bed was against one wall, opposite to a sitting area and bathroom. The windows lining the room were covered my satin curtains. Where was I?

The last thing I could remember was riding the motorcycle when. . .Russia. I felt my heart panic as I glanced down at my stomach. He dug a pipe in there, right? I lifted my shirt and saw not a trace of my previous injury. Then I noticed my shirt. It was white and rather soft-not the blue blouse I was wearing earlier.

I shrieked and threw my sheets off, ready to run out of the place. "Please don't stand yet," A voice said. I paused, that voice was familiar. "Even though you're healed, your body is still weak."

I stopped and faced the sitting area. Someone rose from an arm chair facing away from me. This person had shoulder length blond hair that curled slightly. Their body type was curvy, seemingly a beautiful being. I slowly released my held breath. "Hello Rosa."

Said girl gave me a soft smile. "Hi Annie," she walked up to my bedside. "It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

I nodded. "Yeah." We were quiet for a moment. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I have a message from Patrick."

* * *

><p><strong>MW<strong>: I still hate this chapter.

**Too Lazy to put up Translations**

**Next Chapter: **Annie finally meets the Allies and they aren't trying to kill her!

**REVIEW~!**


	6. Scones: Worst than Nukes

**SEK: **Hmmm, yes this chapter came out nicely. . . Oh hi there! You may not know me, but I'm Sek, MW's living nightmare. Since I am such a nice person, I decided to proofread this chapter for you, thus explaining why I'm here.

**MW:** *Fires gun* SEK! GET OUT OF MY AUTHOR'S NOTE!

**SEK**: Why should I? It took me five bloody hours to edit everything!

**MW**: It was my FIRST draft! The one I wasn't even finished with! And besides, I didn't ask you to beta read it for me. Now get out!

**SEK**: Fine. But don't worry, we'll meet again ;) *leaves*

**MW**: Sorry about that, it's just that I lost quiet a bit of sleep over this chapter and she's the one complaining. Anyways, Like I promised, this chapter is much longer and filled with sarcasim. Overall, I'm very satified with this one. I would like to thank the people who reviewed last chapter. Even though it was really bad-

**SEK**: I liked Russia in it! *runs away*

**MW**: That's because you're a Russia fangirl. Moving on, to the one called Emily, I will fixed the errors in the last chapters soon. I'm going to see whether or not I can improve my grammar before getting a beta reader. Until then, review and keep me motivated!

**Chapter Summary**: Annie meets the Allies, just to be harassed, embarrassed, and reunited with an old pal (read: boat)

**Warnings: **Language, References to abuse, Sarcasim

**Disclaimer**: Even though I forgot to put this in the last chapter, I STILL do not own Hetalia

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 6~<strong>

**Scones: Worst than Nukes**

* * *

><p><strong>December 1, 1941<strong>

** Allied Base, Eastern English Coast**

I scowl as I hesitantly followed the maid down the hall. Compared to the room I had woken up in, it was rather plain. Tan walls, wood floors, the occasional window, seriously bland. _"So, I'm coming to see the leaders,"_ I thought sourly. So far, my morning has been far from pleasant.

First, when I had came to, Rosa was by my bedside. You know, Rosa, my step sister? It's not as though I hate her, in fact it was quite the opposite; I trusted her with my life. However, that girl never disobeyed our parents, of course with reasonable cause. Back when she was a teenager, Rosa got pregnant. She never said who the father was, but a few days later she announced that she lost the baby. She was covered with bruises.

With her sudden appearance, she gave me a break down of a message from Dad. "He says that you have a month," she told me ominously.

"A month to do what?"

"Prove a side of the story." I gave her a puzzled look. She sighed and pulled out a folded white piece of paper. From it, she read: "In the event that Annie still does not know what I mean, tell her that she lives with them."

My heart froze. I live with them? That means that, "Dad believes that my bosses are HETAs?" I asked in disbelief.

Rosa nodded, reading, "When Annie realizes my point, tell her that I suspect it to be so, but am not quiet sure. I would like to act immediately, therefore I will only give her a month to find evidence that they are."

I stared at her blankly. She was pretty much just reading her instructions to me. I asked dryly, "Am I seriously that predictable?"

This time she smiled. "If she asked about her predictability, then tell her that she really is."

I buried my face in my hands. If I remember correctly, this is the second time in recent events that this occurred, the first when Ludwig offered to find a list of people in pocession of an Iron Cross. The woman placed a hand on my back, rubbing it calmly. "Annie, darling," she said, no longer reading from the paper. "Please be careful."

She received a muffled sound in agreement. Rosa had never approved of this strife for revenge. If it was her choice, she would be a chef somewhere in America, far away from this pointless cause. I had to agree with her. I had been studying to be a nurse before this all started. In a way, Rosa and I both wanted out.

She muttered a reply and softly left the room, leaving me to figure out what to do. Ludwig, Kiku, Feli; Could they really be HETAs? Were any of them involved in Mom's death? I couldn't- no, refused -to believe it. Yeah, Ludwig may be a jerk, but all the men were good people. Just as the maid came to dress and take me to breakfast, I knew that my first move was to get back to Italy as soon as possible. I needed to find evidence of their humanity.

"What do I tell them?" I asked the maid. "What are their names?"

The maid was a rather pretty lady, but her face was stern and drawn. "You tell them what they ask of you," she said emotionless. She stopped at a large oak door and quickly straighten out the wrinkles in my skirt. I was given a red, long sleeve dress to wear. It was nice, though once again, dresses are not to my preference.

I thanked her before she opened the door. I blinked; this room was much different from the hallway. There was one long window along one of the walls, letting in plenty of sunlight. Or at least it would if England wasn't such a cloudy over all color was a soft yellow and the floors were a dark wood. Standing in the center was a rectangular table where breakfast food was set-up. And how could I forget, there was five men seated there, each looking at me intently when I came in. I immediately recognized Russia, who was giving me his signature childish smirk. I shivered.

"Bonjour," a silky voice cooed. A blond man stood, his wavy hair pulled back into a long ponytail. He slid over to me and took my hand, giving it a soft kiss. "Je m'appelle Francis Bonnefoy."

The only thing I caught was his name. I blushed when I noticed how warm his lips, pressed to my hand, were. His blue eyes met mine with a mischievous glint. "What is your name?" he asked, his face getting closer to mine. I barely noticed his hand slipping onto the small of my back.

I blushed and stuttered over my words. "A-annie Henson."

"Ah. That is a _belle_ name ma cher," he said. Something touched my butt- correction -his hand touched my butt.

I scowled as I snapped back to my senses. This guy, this Francis Bonnefoy, was his slimy hands seriously on my butt? I raised my fist and punched him square in the jaw."Pervert!" I yelled, preparing myself to hit him again. Some one grabbed my hand.

Glancing sideways I saw that it was Russia, giving me his smile. Everyone except Francis laughed. "I knew you were a smart girl," the Russian said cheerfully.

Another man walked up up to me and slung an arm around my shoulder. He had blond hair and rectangular glasses. "Dude, I totally knew that you were a Type B" he said loudly with an over bearing American accent. His voice was obnoxious.

I gave him a wary look. "Type B?"

"Yeah it means that your charmed with him until he touches you." He offered me a hand. "I'm Alfred F. Jones, the hero!"

I took it as a girl with long black hair tied into a pony tail came up to the bundled group. "We need to let her eat-aru," she said, prying Russia and Alfred away from me. "Arthur said if we didn't, she's going to faint-aru."

I gave her a confused look and followed her to the table. "Arthur?" I asked, taking a seat in the chair Alfred pulled out for me.

She nodded. "Arthur Kirkland. He's currently working out a deal with the Axis."

Alfred and Francis sat right next to me as Russia took a seat across from me. The Frenchman's hand shot to my leg, causing me to kick him. "May I ask who you people are?"

Russia nodded. "We've come to an understanding that you know what Ludwig's, job is?" I gave a nod. "Well it's the same for us, except we work for the Allied countries."

"I'm Wang Yao of China," the Asian introduced.

Francis gave me a perverted smirk. "Francis Bonnefoy of France."

A loud "Alfred F. Jones of the United States of America!" was next.

"I'm Matthew Williams of Canada," a whispered voice said. I looked around and saw a mirror image of Alfred, except this man was slightly smaller and had longer hair.

"I am Ivan Braginski of the Soviet Union," Russia said.

"You said that your name was Russia," I told him, giving him a blank look. He seemed un-phased by it, where as the other Allies were giving wary glances to each other. It was silent. _"Was I not suppose to know the whole Russia thing?"_ I wondered as I mentally scowled. _"Suspicious; Dad would just love this."_

There was a very small laugh. It was soft, so soft I would had missed it if Francis hadn't asked Matthew what was so funny. "Miss Henson," He breathed, or at least I think he did. His voice was too quiet to make much of a difference. "You should know that Ivan doesn't speak English naturally."

I gave him a confused look as Alfred's eyes light up in realization. "Yeah Annie! What Ivan meant to say was that he is _Russian_!" That sounded crazy, but then again, everyone here seemed to have lost a bit of their sanity.

Yao clapped her hands. "That's enough-aru!" She declared. "Let's eat already!"

Alfred immediately jumped for the first platter he could reach as Matthew dished himself some pancakes. Yao poured herself tea and Ivan took a swing from a metal container. I assumed that it contained vodka. Francis was the only one who didn't make a move.

"Ladies first," he said slyly, resting his chin on his hand. He must had have an ulterior motive, but my stomach was growling. I pressed my lips together and scanned the table, looking for something familiar. By the looks of it, there was at least two dishes from each man's home country, some smelling good, others not so much. I spied a tray with its silver cover still on.

I reached out to grab it, causing Francis to immediately exclaim that the dish was a biohazard. I ignored him and pulled the cover off to reveal. . . "Scones!" I exclaimed happily, grabbing a few for myself.

The table gave me a shocked look. "M'ude, m'on't m'eat m'at." The sounds from Alfred's mouth was muffled by the food he had shoved in there.

Scowling, I began dabbing some butter on it. "Why? Scones are delicious."

Francis gasped. "But Arthur made those scones!"

Que the eye roll. "Why should that matter?"

The Allies joined forces and gave a magnificent speech on why it mattered. It involved something about him being British and how all Brits were bad cooks. I silently agreed with them- I got my haft way decent cooking abilities from my Italian blood. Just as Ivan started to tell a story about how Arthur nearly killed the Queen of England with his cooking, a huge chunk of the pastry was shoved into my mouth. They stared as I chewed it, as if expecting me to drop dead at any moment.

"It's good," I said truthfully. I hadn't realized it before, but there were cranberries mixed in there. "It's a bit salty though"

Yao sighed and rubbed her temples. "Aiya! You really are British born," she exclaimed. "I knew you have citizenship, but still-aru!" Well it looks like someone did their research on me.

I shrugged and asked her why I couldn't be British. "You aren't necessarily decorous," the other explained.

"What makes you say that?"

"When Ivan first brought you here, you were wearing pants-aru! Women should not wear pants!"

I scowled at the hypocrite. "You're a woman and you're wearing pants!" I exclaimed, referring to her Chinese military uniform. By the sudden stiff atmosphere, I knew that I said something wrong. "What?"

Yao snarled, "I'm a man-aru!" As the table started to snicker, I gave her (or should I say, him) a confused look. There was no way he was a guy, his voice was way too feminine and I swear there are some boobs under his green army coat.

Even so, I profusely apologized, trying to salvage the situation. It only resulted with Yao declaring that he didn't like me. I was at the end of my temper, ready to lash out at him, when Alfred jumped onto the table, saying loudly, "Everyone! The hero declares that this is not the way to spend the morning!"

We all settled down and I buried my face in my hands. Just as I was starting to drown in self pity, I noticed something odd. I looked back up and began poking at my nose gently, trying to figure out what was wrong.

Francis noticed this and took my chin in his hands, pointing my face to his. "Mademoiselle, what are you doing?" he asked in a combination of flirtation and curiosity.

I brushed his hands away. "It's nothing, it's just. . . " I trailed off, suddenly remembering was wrong with my face. "My nose-" I touched it again, noting that it didn't hurt. "-it should be broken." The room stared at me (they've been doing that a lot). It felt as though they were silently waiting for the other to concoct some lie to tell me.

Ivan spoke, "Francis, you shouldn't be smoking indoors, da." I glanced sideways and saw that the blond was lighting a cigarette. I twitched. For the past few months, I've been inching for a good smoke (James Fisher stole every cigarette I had while I was at the POW camp).

The Frenchman must had sensed my desire since he took a long drag and offered it to me. I shook my head. Although it's been hell having to go so long without it, I didn't want to get hooked again just to be striped of it. "Dude, give me one!" Alfred demanded, waving his hands in the air like a football player trying to catch the ball.

Francis threw him the pack, saying, "You're going to use all of mine anyways." Yao, Ivan, and I started to cough at the smoke. Man, I really wish I had one.

"Aru! Will you two go outside!" Yao coughed, waving his hand in the air.

"Oui. I have a date with a certain Mademoiselle anyways." He bid his goodbye and kissed my hand again before walking to the hall, calling out the name of some unlucky maid. I seriously hoped that she was a Type B.

I was able to shove a few more scones into my mouth before a hand took mine and dragged me out the room. "We got a lot of time to spare before your meeting!" Alfred declared, cigarette sticking out of his mouth. "Let's go explore the outside!"

"What meeting?" I asked as I was led further down the hallway. We paused in front of a large window. It over looked a cloudy skied England. From what I could see, we were at a military training base. On the green expanses, I could see soldiers running, doing laps, and completing obstacle courses. However, past all that was a harbor filled with military boats.

Alfred stood next to me and gazed out at a general direction. "Well with Arthur of course," he said. For some reason, he sounded less obnoxious and spoke at a normal volume.

I leaned against the sill, slouching in a very unladylike manner. "Why?"

He took a long drag. "I did say that he was negotiating a deal with the Axis, right?" I nodded. "Well currently, Ludwig wants you back and Arthur is demanding some of our captured troops in return." He spat a bit of the chewed tobacco. "Heartless bastard."

There was a lot of shocking things in that sentence. Like how Ludwig wanted me back (didn't know he cared). But at the moment, I had no idea who this Arthur person was, so it was best to start with him. "How could wanting POWs back make someone heartless?" I asked.

"Arthur is. . ." He trailed off, searching for the right word. "When the old man sees an opportunity, he takes it, no matter who's in the way."

His eyes were far off, as is gazing from behind glasses restricted them. "Am I in the way?"

He shook his head. "No, its just me." He chuckled lightly and turned from the window, leaning his back against the glass. "Never really liked the old man."

"Old man? Is he your dad?" He gave me a funny look. I quickly added, "Not to be intrusive or anything, I'm just really curious and stuff."

Alfred smiled and took another drag. "Nah it's fine, I just forget that humans have a different definition of family-"

Humans? "What?"

"-But he's not my dad, just Matthew's and my older brother."

I let the human thing drop as I realized an inconsistency. "But I thought that Mr. Williams was Canadian."

"He is. You know how. . . " He trailed off, his eyes lighting up slightly. Alfred bellowed a swear, but then caught himself. Laughing nervously, he scratched the back of his head. "Yeah forget that I said anything."

It was obvious that he told me something he shouldn't had. But how is his family tree so controversial? The American scanned the halls, looking for a distraction. He found it. "Mrs. Carlton!" He called.

My heart stopped as my eyes shot to the person. Mrs. Carlton- better known as Rosa -waved before giving a small curtsy. Alfred ran to her and I followed. "Mrs. Carlton! Where you goin'?" he asked. I gave him a confused look, causing him to explain. "Mrs. Carlton was filling in for my usual maid- she's sick."

That makes sense. Dad obviously has been keeping an eye on me and wanted Rosa to give me his message. Therefore, he stuck her here with a temporary job as a replacement maid. I gave her a soft smile, saying, "Hello Mrs. Carlton, its a pleasure to meet you."

Rosa nodded, knowing quite well that Alfred has no idea that we knew each other. "Same to you Miss. . ." there was a series of awkward small talk lead by Alfred. He seemed unaware of the atmosphere. Eventually, Rosa excused herself, saying that she had a cab waiting. We both waved good bye.

"So Annie, if there anywhere the hero can take you?" he asked afterwards. Even though we had no idea where we were going, we were already strolling down the hallway, occasionally moving aside so that a maid or military officer can pass.

I remembered the bird's-eye view of the facility we had at the window. Politely, I asked, "Can we go to the harbor?" Yes, you read right, I asked it politely. The blond was already rude enough, and I was afraid that if I joined in. . . . . . shit, I have nothing snappy to say! Damn those Americans.

Alfred fist pumped and lead me to the outside. Like I suspected, we were at a military training base. Not only was there a harbor, but we also passed a lot full of fighter planes. "Aren't they kick-ass?" Alfred had asked when we passed by. Eventually, we reached the wood decks of the harbor. The water was peaceful and a breeze from the ocean cooled the air.

"There are a lot of civilian boats here," I noted. It was true, the first few rows were everything from aircraft carriers to smaller coast guard boats. But now they were thinning out to independently owned fishing boats.

Alfred regraded this and thought for a second, trying to remember why. "Oh yeah!" he exclaimed in remembrance. "There is a town nearby that depends on fishing for their main source of income. Arthur needed this spot as a harbor, so he agreed to let the civilians dock their boats here."

I nodded. "Yeah I was just. . ." I trailed off as something caught my eye. Could it be? I walked past him and down one of the many rows.

"Where ya going?" Alfred asked chasing after me. I stopped suddenly and he knocked into my back. I was staring at a white gloss boat. It wasn't big, but it wasn't too small. There was simple sails on it, as well of what looked to be a above deck control room. It obviously wasn't a fishing boat. "Cool boat," he commented.

I looked at the side and saw _Arsenius _written in black scripted letters. Smiling broadly, I felt the glee bubble in my body and hopped onto the boat. "My baby~!" I squealed in a manner similar to Feli's (hey, I am Italian). "What are you doing here?" I spun in a circle before flopping onto my back.

Alfred got onto the boat. "Is this thing yours?" he asked.

In truth, the _Arsenius_ was my mother's boat (You remember, the boat I fixed up in my teenage years) but I didn't correct him. "Yup! But the last I checked, she was docked in London."

The blond laughed. "If your so curious, then the hero will get the answer for you then!" He, rather epicly, jumped off the boat and back onto the deck. "Stay here damsel!" Normally, the mocking title would had pissed me off, but I was so distracted, I didn't even care that my mentor ran off to ask someone about it.

I got back onto my feet and went to the door to below deck. As expected, it was locked. I pried a floor board off the deck and found my spare key. I smiled- just where I left it. I opened the door and went down the narrow steps.

The room was dark. By memory, I walked across the room and found the light switch. The bulb flickered on the reveal a hammock, wood desk, privy, and kitchen. The room overall was about the same size as my bed room at Ludwig's house. I didn't mind it; above deck was another room where all the controls were. It included the radio, maps, steering mechanisms, anything a pirate would be proud of.

Sighing, I laid down on the hammock and closed my eyes. The last time I was here was the summer before my first year of college. The _Arsenius _had just finished her repairs and I packed my necessities and cruised the Atlantic ocean. I traveled the coat of the United states, United Kingdom, France, and a bit of Spain. I missed those days. No Dad breathing down my neck. No HETAs to worry about. Those months, that summer was the only time I was ever truly free.

"Is anyone here?" A voice called. Lazily, I crack my eyes opened. I saw the outline of an unfamiliar man at the bottom of the stairs, taking his time looking about.

I sighed and swung off the hammock. "I'm right here," I growled slightly. I wasn't happy that this stranger was disturbing my remembrance.

The stranger also took notice of me. "Were you sleeping?" He asked. I noticed his thick British accent.

"No, just thinking." Actually, he was very British looking. He was a tall blond, smaller than Alfred though. He didn't look buff, but he wasn't lanky. He sported a green military outfit.

He nodded and walked up to me and held out his hand. "I'm Arthur Kirkland," he introduced. So this is the ever prophesied Arthur. So far, I wasn't impressed.

I took his hand and shook it. "I'm Annabel Henson." My eyes shifted to his caterpillar eyebrows. They reminded me of Dad's.

"Henson," he repeated. He took a moment to think it over. It made me nervous- does this guy have something to do with Dad? "Oh yes. Patrick Henson is the CEO of the Society Oil Works."

I gave a mental sigh of relief. "Yes, he's my dad."

Arthur gave a respectful nod of the head, but didn't say another word. It was silent for a few moments as we waited for the other to strike up small talk. "Is this your boat?" The blond asked.

I smiled and my eyes light up. I loved talking about her! "Yes! The _Arsenius. _She's a beauty, no? Used to be my mother's. When she owned her, it was a mere fishing boat. However, I took off a lot of the equipment and added a engine. The sails help though, especially when the wind is with me-"

Arthur laughed, causing me to scowl at him. "I'm sorry," he chuckled. "It's just that I could had told you most of that at a glance."

"Oh really?" I challenged, staring his straight in the eyes. Even though he was smaller than Ludwig, I still had to look up at him. Why were these men so much taller than me? "How so?"

The blond smiled. "I used to captain a crew myself." There was a hint of pride in his voice. Was he a fisherman? Navy man? I laughed, causing him to scowl in return. "What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing," I chuckled. "It's just that every time I hear someone refer to themselves as a captain, I always think that they're a pirate." He joined me in the laugh, but it was obviously forced. However, nothing in his facial expression made me think that he was offend. No, it was more of curiosity.

Arthur smiled and pulled up the chair at my desk. "So how are you feeling?" he asked, crossing his legs. "Did you eat enough?"

I nodded and sat back on my hammock. "Yeah I did, but-" I stopped myself but continued when he raised a thick eyebrow. "-I remember vividly being beaten by Rus- Mr. Braginski and now-"

"You're completely healed." I nodded again as Arthur regarded my statement. He bit his lip, before saying, "Well I have an answer for you, but it'll be your choice whether or not to believe me."

Absentmindedly, I started to swing my legs back and forth like a little kid. "Try me."

He smirked. "Magic," he said at last. "It runs in the family." I wanted to roll my eyes. Did he think that I was an idiot? Even so, I smiled on the inside, remembering all of my American friends asking me whether or not I believed in fairies.

"Arthur, may I ask you something?"

"Anything Miss Henson."

"Am I going back to Ludwig?"

He was silent as he considered his next words. The man sighed and made a move to grab something from his pockets (most likely cigarettes), but cursed when he realized they were empty. "I would like to give you diplomatic protection," he said after a few minutes. "However, you have a contract and I can't intervene with that." I sighed and nodded. "Also, Ludwig seems pretty determined to not let you escape."

I laughed, saying, "God, I hate him."

Arthur seemed surprised by that. "You hate him?"

"Yes. He's rude, inconsiderate, and-"

The other laughed. I asked him what was so funny, he replied with a, "You make him sound so much like Alfred."

That was the second time this relationship had been brought up. The two did seem like two opposites, but they couldn't really be that different. I gave a slight shrug. "Alfred said- and I quote -that you are 'a heartless bastard'."

Unexpectedly, Arthur smirked. "Sounds like him," he said. After another minute, he paused and grew serious. "But it is not your concern. Alfred, he's-"

"Yo!" There was a thud. "Annie! I know why the Arne- the whatever it's called is here!" We both looked up.

Arthur whistled. "Well, speak of the devil." By the noise, we both guessed that Alfred had jumped onto the deck and ran loudly down the stairs.

His tussle of blond hair popped through the door. "Apparently, about a few months ago- hey old man! What up?"

The other groaned. "Don't call me that Alfred," he snapped.

He brushed him aside. "Whatever." Alfred ran up to me and handed me a vanilla folder filled with a paper clipped stack of papers. "So anyways, Annie! According to this wicked report, the coast guard found your boat drifting in the English Channel and due to suspicions of it being a spy boat, they've been keeping it here."

As I flipped the folder opened and scanned the countless lines of words, Arthur smacked his brother. "You idiot!" he scolded. "If we suspect someone to be a spy, then we don't tell them!" Alfred laughed and gave him some crap filled story about how awesome the 'hero' is. It was rather funny. My hand flew to my mouth as I snuffled a laugh. Just as the British man started to gloat about burning down D.C. back in 1819, I burst out into uncontrollable laughter.

They stared at me as my knees buckled and collapsed. "Oh. . . my. . . God!" I laughed. "I. . . can't. . . breath!"

Alfred picked me up bridal style and started to carry me up the stairs and back onto deck, proclaiming, "Let the hero help you!"

The other man sighed and followed him, muttering about how he was 'being a stupid git'. On deck, I laughed for a few more minutes before regaining my composure. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "It's just that. . ." I trailed off, trying to find a nice way to say that they were being idiots. Before I could stop myself, some made up story spilled from my mouth, "You two remind me so much of my brother."

Do we really need to go over my back story again? I think that I had made it clear that David is the sibling I hate, where as Rosa is the one I like.

Alfred tilted his head to the side, much like a curious puppy. "Cool!" he exclaimed as I locked the door to below deck. "Tell me 'bout him!" Oh shit.

I nearly dropped the floor board I was lifting up (You know, to hid my key). "Um. . . well David, he. . . "

This time, Arthur was the hero. He smack the taller man behind the head. "You git! Don't ask a person about their personal life!"

Having successfully returned my spare key to its hiding place, I led the men off the _Arsenius_. Giving a nostalgic smile, I waved goodbye to her. Hopefully, I would see her again. Soon. The brothers became wrapped up in another argument. It was quickly going from personal space to the 'amazingness' of American movies. _"They're both a bunch of gits,"_ I thought, humor.

As silly as it was, I actually liked these two the best. Arthur was a polite gentleman who seemed to share a liking for boating with me. On the other hand, Alfred was a loud, rude, and obnoxious. Yet, there was something likable about him, I had found it easy to have a casual conversation with him.

We walked back into the building and traveled down the hallways to the room where we had breakfast. Yao and Ivan were still in there, wrapped up in some serious discussion. Yao was saying, "I just worry about his motives" when he trailed off and stared at us.

"Hey dudes," Alfred greeted, stealing one of the empty chairs. His legs were immediately prompted onto the table. "Whatcha talking about?"

Yao scowled. "Nothing-aru"

However, Ivan gave his signature smile. 'We're talking about Kiku," he said. The Russian shot the Asian a look that could only be a mixture of happiness and pure demonic evil. "Yao thinks that he's being manipulated, da?"

Arthur offered me a chair and pushed me in when I sat down, wondering how these people knew Kiku. He took a seat to my right, making me the buffer between the brothers. Alfred laugh. "Dude, don't worry! Kiku and I are hommies; he's going to join us soon!" Wait, quiet Kiku friends with loud-mouth Alfred? Highly unlikely.

"I highly doubt it mon aim." I turned and saw Francis strolling in casually. He ran his fingers through his locks and his clothes were slightly ruffled. I took that the maid he'd been flirting with wasn't a Type B. "Kiku seems to have his heart set on this one."

Arthur scowled. "You guys are just presuming that it's his choice," he scolded.

Francis laughed and slid an arm around his waist. As if that wasn't enough, he titled the Brit's chin towards his. There was barely an inch of space between them. "Mon amour, you sound like Ludwig," he cooed rather flirtatiously. "Always saying that we have no choice~!"

He got a fist to the jaw. "You Goddamn Frog!" Arthur yelled, losing his gentleman-like demeanor. "Keep you slimy hands away from me!"

Francis shrugged. "You are cruel l'Angleterre," he complained. "Always leading me on, yet never satisfying my needs."

Arthur stood and rolled up his sleeves, ready to fight. "Why I ought to. . " The two continued their argument and drifted to a corner of the room.

Meanwhile, Yao had crossed his arms. "You western nations are so immature," he complained. Addressing Alfred: "What do you know about Kiku- aru?"

"Way more than you do Chinie-dude!" Alfred resorted. "We are hommies after all."

Yao returned with a "But I raised him! I know much more than you-aru!"

There was a low chanting. It was low and ominous. . . and it came from Ivan. When Yao and Alfred heard this (how do you describe it?) 'kol'ing, they paused and looked at him. "товарищи," Ivan said eerily as the atmosphere around him darken. "Why don't we take this outside, da?"

He didn't give them a chance to reply. Ivan lifted- freaking lifted -the two onto his shoulders and carried them out merrily, leaving me to wonder what the heck just happened? My eyes started to wander back to Arthur and Francis, who were in fact still arguing. "Ow. . ." A quiet voice moaned.

I jumped at the noise. What the heck? Who said that? My eyes darted around until resting on the seat Ivan had been previously sitting in. There was something there. . .

"Can you see me?" It asked. I jumped as a shape started to take form. I blinked and rubbed my eyes: Holy shit, I'm seeing things. Sitting in the chair was Alfred, looking helpless and injured from being squished. In his hands was a white bear.

Hesitantly, I nodded.

"That's great," he said, giving me a smile. "I was afraid that you had forgotten me."

I gave him a weak smile. "Yeah. . ." May I get an awkward?

The Alfred-Look-A-Like's eyes light up as he realized something. "Did Arthur tell you when you're returning to the Axis?"

I shook my head- the question had slipped my mind. He placed a hand on a sheet of paper and slid it over to me. I read it. "December 7th!" I exclaimed at last, having read it to the fullest. Apparently, before Arthur and I could have our 'meeting', he had to write up a report about the terms of the exchange, which included having December 7th has the exchange date.

Sighing, I placed the paper back on the table. On the bright side, at least the Allies were getting their prisoners back. I stood and gave him back the paper. "Thank you," I said, sliding my chair back in. "If anyone asks, I'm going back to my room." I had no idea what I was going to do there, but it seemed like I wasn't needed here anymore.

Alfred (?) nodded. "Okay, good-bye Annie."

"Good-bye. . .Um, what;s your name again?"

He looked ready to cry. "I'm Matthew Williams," he cried softly. "Of Canada!"

As I walked away, I heard the bear (can bears even talk? Last I checked, no) ask, "Where is that?"

Am I the only one wondering why everyone I meet seems to have lost some of their sanity?

* * *

><p><strong>SEK: <strong>Midnas would never think that I ran away to the second author's note.

**MW: **Well, that was a fun chapt- WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

**SEK: ***smacks with tennis racket* Just shut-up and pretend that I'm not here!

**MW: ***grumbling* Fine. Well this was a fun chapter, though I can't wait till the next one :) So much drama~! Oh, and the Axis Powers finally come back (I missed Ludwig. . . ). My only concerns for this chapter is that I made Alfred's American slang a little distracting. If anyone thought so, tell me and I'll tone it down. Is there anything else. . . Oh yeah, this chapter was originally going to end with Annie saying good-bye to the Arsenius, but I wanted more Canada (though he's not really going to play a big part in the story).

**Fun Facts and Translations**

"Je m'appelle Francis Bonnefoy" My name is Francis Bonnefoy. French

"Why? Scones are delicious." Just a quick reminder, Annie is Southern Italian and British, therefore, she's going to have some of the British quirks, like thinking that scones are delicious

"Way more than you do Chinie-dude!" Chinnie is like Chinese, except with an "e" sound at the end. Rhymes with Shiney. Leave it to the Americans to come up with their own words.

"товарищи" Comrades. Russian

**Next Chapter: **The Allies and Axis have their exchange, which brings to light a disturbing fact.

**BFTL**: Hey guys! Did I miss the party?

**SEK**: Not at all! Did you bring the beer?

**MW**: *Face desk* Dear Lord, please help me.

**BFTL**: Dude, she's going all Catholic on us!

**SEK**: Quickly people, **review** so that Midnas doesn't kill us for invading her story!

**R E V I E W ~ !**


	7. Guns, Beer, and Pearl Harbor

**MW:** Ah now time to post the next chapter- OMG! We're over 20 reviews! YAHOO~! Beat that! *coughs* Sorry, freakout moment. Anyways, this was another headache chapter. It's kind of short, but I basically wrote this chapter in a period of two days (kept on scratching and restarting the chapter). Overall, I'm happy with this chapter, though I cut out fight, plane, and France character development scenes. If I get bored one day, I'll write an omake about it. Maybe. . .

**Chapter Summary: **After a very dramatic hostage exchange, Ludwig and Annie drink some beer.

**Warnings: **Violence, Language, OOC Ludwig

**Disclaimer: **Even though I am amazing, I do not own Hetalia.

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 7~<strong>

**Guns, Beer, and Pearl Harbor **

* * *

><p><strong>December 7, 1941<strong>

** Vash Zwingli's House**

I sat uncomfortably in the red velvet seat. At that moment, I was still trying to process what had happened. There was one small detail Arthur had failed to mention in his fabulous report: The exchange was happening in a neutral country. And by neutral country, I mean Switzerland. Thus, I was sitting in a living room at a Vash Zwingili's house.

He has the same job as Ivan and the others. He was a tall blond with a stern face. Vash's green eyes were constantly glaring Francis down. With a good reason of course.

"Mon aim," The Frenchman cooed. "Where is your sister?"

Vash, standing crossed armed by the windows, growled. "She's meeting the Axis at the train station." His voice was testy. I wondered why. Even though this was a peaceful meeting, he had a gun swung over his shoulder. Once more, the man sported a green military suit as if it was casual Friday.

Alfred, sitting next to Arthur on the couch, laughed. "Dude, you trust the Axis more than us?"

"Of course I do." Vash shot Francis a glare. "Especially since your hands went to her chest. And-" he glared at Ivan. "A certain Russian threatened her with a pipe."

Said pipe was pulled from Ivan's trench coat. "She was putting silly thoughts into my Edaurd's head," he said with a childish manner. "You can understand that, da?"

"No." Whoa, someone said no to Ivan? Dear God, this guy has guts!

"Good day Lili," Arthur greeted at the door. I turned and saw Vash's little sister entering the room in a beautiful pink dress. Hey, you want to know something? Vash's little sister is very pretty. She looks very similar to him except she had a blue ribbon in her hair. Can't blame her- without it, I would had confused her for a little boy. What? Her boobs are just as existent as mine (read: barely there).

"Lili, are the Axis Powers here?" Vash asked, coming up to her. I expected him to hug her, but his arms reminded at his side. In fact, it seemed as though he was uncomfortable be be within two feet of her.

"Yes Big brother. We arrived just a minute ago," Lili gave a small curtsy when he passed by her and went into the next room. When she saw me, she smiled brightly. "I'm Lili of Liechtenstein," she introduced. "And Vash is my big brother." I was confused for a moment. I had never heard of Liechtenstein.

Being the good Brit I am, I stood and gave her a small bow. Today I could actually do that, Arthur had given me a British military suit to wear instead of a form fitting dress Francis offered. "I'm Annie Henson," I greeted.

The poor girl barely had time to reply before Francis swooped in for the prey."Lili," he greeted, giving her a kiss to the hand. "You've grown much prettier since the last time we met." She squealed and ducked behind Yao, who returned by giving him a dark scowl.

"Aiya!" he exclaimed. "Francis! Would you keep your horomos in check for once- aru!"

"Why should I mon aim?" He gave a flirtatious smirk. "L'Angleterre always said that I should start flirting with more filles instead of des garçons"

Arthur stood in objection. "You Goddamn frog!" He yelled, smacking the other blond. "Stop twisting my words for your own use!"

A gun shot rang through out the room. We all paused and saw Vash standing in the door way, aiming his gun at the ceiling. "Knock it off!" The Swiss ordered as his younger sister ran to his side. She gave him a big hug around the waist. Vash blushed and softly told her to get off. Wait a second, are these two involved in some form of cest? Dear God, that is GROSS!

The Swiss man cleared his throat and lowered the gun slowly. "Let's get this over with." The man walked to the center of the room. "This is how we're going to do this. When we walk into the next room, the Axis should be there. Annie, you do not walk over to them until we get the call confirming the POW drop off. Until then, no one is to cause trouble-" he shot us a fierce glare "-got it?" It almost seemed like a dare, one Alfred seemed ready to break.

"We won't" Ivan said, placing a hand on Alfred's shoulder. "Da?" For once, the American looked terrified.

Vash opened the door. This room was similar to this one, except that the walls were blue, not red. Standing to the other side of the room was an angry Lovino (stylishly wearing a tan military suit and tall boots), emotionless Kiku (sporting a white naval outfit with his katana at his side), a serious looking Ludwig (also wearing his country's green military uniform), and. . . "Antonio!" Vash yelled, pulling out his gun (why is it that everything he does involves a gun?). "What are you doing here?"

The Spaniard shrugged. "I"m neutral," he replied happily. "So I just came to watch." His eyes rested in me. "Annie~!" He cried, running across the room and giving me a bear hug. "How are you~!"

It felt as though he was squeezing the life out of me. "F-fine," I gasped. I was happy to see him again; most of my time had been spent with Alfred and that had grown tired quick.

There was seemingly three objections to this encounter. The first being from Arthur, who said something about sexual harassment. The second came from Lovino, whose exact words were "Damn tomato bastard! Stop violating her!"

The third one was from Ludwig. In the time I hadn't seen him, he had barely changed. "Antonio, would you stop it?" He scolded, sounding a little tired. "This is a hostage exchange, not a cocktail party."

"Aw," The Spaniard moaned, releasing me and moving his hand away from my butt- wait a second, when had it gotten there? Damn, he was good. "Ludwig, you always ruin my fun!"

As the Spaniard walked away, Ludwig gave me a nod. "So you're alive," he noted, smirking slightly.

I huffed. "I was kidnapped by your enemies and that's the best observation you can make?"

"Well what do you want me to say?" He asked. I could tell already that he had some nasty comment to snap. "Your figure certainly hasn't improved."

Arthur stepped up to my defense. "Listen here Nazi," he snarled in a gentlemanly manner. "You may be getting away with all the evil of the world right now, but there is no way I'll let you insult a woman!"

As I objected to having someone defend me, Alfred laughed and placed a hand on our shoulders. "Old man, you're so old fashion!" He declared. "Annie doesn't mind being insulted! Right whore face?"

I scowled. 'Whatever you say Alfred."

The Italian was the only person to object to revelation. "Fuck off Alfred," he yelled, crossing his arms. "That ugly bitch you got there is my damn prey."

The American whistled. "Wow, dude. Your language has definitely gotten worst."

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Lili tap Vash's shoulder and whispered something into his ear. He nodded and stood at the center of the room. "We have just received conformation that the POWs have reached Allied forces and have been safely returned." He announced, looking at me. "Annie, you may return to your bosses."

I sighed and faced the Allies. "Well," I said awkwardly, scratching the back of my head. This is something people really do need to learn at school: how to bid your kidnappers goodbye. "I guess this is goodbye."

The Chinese man huffed. "Just go already-aru."

Arthur extended a hand to me. "Be careful," he warned. From his pocket, he pulled out a small business card. "Call me if you need anything." I accepted the card, wondering if I just scored some dude's number.

A hand was placed on my head. I winced as Ivan squashed my spinal cord with his strength. "I know we'll meet again, da?" I was barely able to stutter a scared "da" in reply when I was caught in Alfred's arms.

"Dude!" he cried. "I so going to miss you!" I yelled in pain- he was stronger than he looked, stronger than Ivan even. "Kiku! Can't I keep her for a little longer?"

"Since when was I an item to claim!" I snapped. It was then when a little thought occurred to me: Kiku has been very quiet (more so than usual). He hasn't said a single word and there was a serious look on his face.

When he was addressed, Kiku adverted his gaze like. . . he was full of guilt. Oh no, what did he do? "Annie-san," he said, still observing the ground. "We need to go." So, not only does he look guilty, but he has a sense of urgency to him. Great.

"O-Okay," I breathed, my lungs still squished. Alfred finally released me, and I started walking to the Axis.

"Kiku! Dude!" Alfred yelled (or said, he's loud either way). "We should like get together soon!" He must had been unaware of the guilt vibe his friend was sending off. "We could go sight seeing, drink beer, and- Dude! We could bring Annie with us!"

Halfway across the room, I paused, turned, and yelled, "Don't drag me into your shenanigans!"

"Aw! Fine then. We'll bring Matthew instead! As long as we don't loose him too often, we'll be fine. Hey, maybe we can put one of those doggie leashes on him and. . ." He trailed off. I hadn't started moving yet either. In fact, it seemed as though the whole room was paused.

Alfred's face went from joyful to sheer horror, his eyes widening and sweat dripping down his forehead. He collapsed into his knees, one hand on the ground, the other over his heart. Arthur bent down to him, placing an arm around his shoulders. "Al, what's wrong?" The elder brother asked, full on concern. That's when Alfred started screaming.

It was full of pain. His voice seemed to shatter my ear drums and threaten to break the glass. My hands flew to my ears, trying to block out the noise. I glanced at the American, and saw that tears were falling from his eyes. Just as suddenly as he started; he stopped.

"Pearl Harbor," he panted, still sounding as though he was in pain. "Some one. . .bombed. . . Japan you bastard!"

Multiple eyes traveled to Kiku. I found this understandable, since he did work for the country. "Japan bombed Pearl Harbor?" Arthur asked softly.

Alfred nodded. "Yeah. . .Japan-" He tried to rise, but yelled when pain shot through his body again. "Why did ya. . .I thought we were hommies!"

Kiku met his eyes. He was still emotionless, but it wasn't the respectful one I knew him to have. It was dark, evil even. "America-san, this is war," he said coldly.

"You didn't even send a declar-" He gasped in pain.

The other didn't even blink. "I did."

With help from Arthur, Alfred shakily got to his feet. "That still doesn't. . . What about 60 years ago?" He demanded.

Kiku laughed and cruel laugh. "That? All you did was exploit me." I was stuck in my spot, unable to move. 60 years ago? No way, they were all in their twenties. But what happened during that time? Were they a. . .couple?

"I should've known-aru." Yao took a step forward. "Kiku you-" He took a deep breath. "-Where did I go wrong?" he asked. "I raised you, taught you about the world, and yet you betrayed me- aru. And now America, a nation who actually wants to help you, you betray him without a second thought-aru?"

Ludwig took a step forward. "He was just listening to his boss," he yelled. "Japan doesn't have much of a choice."

Things started to come together in my head. It was small stuff, like how Alfred was calling Kiku 'Japan', the very name Ludwig had used that one night. Everyone was using those countries names. Know one seemed to mind it, in fact, everyone in the room seemed to have one. And Pearl Harbor, I didn't know much about it, but how did he know it was bombed by Japan? More importantly, how was that causing him pain?

I looked at Arthur. He was still holding the American in his arms. He's British and is Alfred's elder brother, an American. Their relation-ship is rocky, yet in their time on need, they care deeply for each other. Much like the countries they're suppose to represent. I was finding similar connections in Lovi's, Antonio's, Feli's, and Ludwig's relation-ships.

I didn't want to think about it, but maybe Dad was right; there is something wrong with these people. Are they HETAs? I didn't think so. In fact, I was more ready to believe that they were some secret league of vampires.

"Bouffe ma queue calisse de fag," Francis growled, his face still looking gorgeous. By the shocked look of the room, he said something very nasty. I really wish I knew what it was. "You know quiet well he had a choice!"

Kiku didn't advert his gaze. "Germany-san, let me deal with this," he said softly. Reluctantly, Ludwig stepped back. The Japanese man gazed at Yao. "America-san, I did what I must to survive," he said. "You Western powers, once you came to Asia, I knew you where going to wipe us out. I must become stronger to prevent that."

Alfred spat. "Bullshit!" He yelled, still leaning on Arthur for support. "You believe that to gain power, you must become part of the Axis Powers?"

"Hai."

He pulled out a gun. "Japan, I. . ." A few tears fell from his eyes. Kiku drew his katana. As interesting as it was, I was terrified that they were going to kill each other.

Arthur griped his shoulder. "America, put the gun down," he whispered. "Annie is-" He didn't get a chance to finish, as a gun shot rang out . I winced as my ear drums shattered. I looked around gazed in horror as a blood stain gathered at Alfred's chest. I shrieked like a little girl. I felt my world spin as they started to yell at Vash for shooting him.

"Either I shot him or Kiku sliced his head off with his sword," Vash resorted. Even though he said it loud and clear, I didn't hear his excuse. At that moment, I felt myself in the past, when my mom died. Did I just lose someone that I cared about? Again?

"Annie," I heard Lovino hissed. "Get your ass over here."

I didn't move. "No," I whispered, still in my shock induced dream state. "Not until. . .holy shit. . . what the hell is going on here?"

Ludwig scowled. "We'll tell you later," He said. "Now come here Annie."

"I won't!" Everyone, including myself, was shocked at my volume. I took a deep breath. The Allies surrounded Alfred, telling Francis to call the ambulance. "I won't! I won't! I won't!"

"Annie, just go with them," Lili pleaded from a corner of the room. She was shakingly holding a pistol in her hands, one I doubted she even knew how to use. I shook my head at her. In my moment of distraction, someone came up behind me and grabbed me into a huge hug, making me unable to move.

"Let go of me!" I demanded, thrashing in my captor's grasp.

"No," Antonio said very seriously. "We have to get moving now."

"No!" I screamed desperately. Kiku finished telling off an obviously pissed Alfred and walk away without any apparent remorse. We were finally leaving. I fought still, thrashing around. Lovino took my legs, demanding in vulgar language to settle down. "Alfred!" I cried, trying to sneak one last glance. "Don't you die on me!" I saw Ivan lift his head and smile childishly at me. in a mocking way. "Don't you fucking die on me! Heroes don't die!"

The door was closed and the scene was blocked from me. We moved out of the house and climbed into a black car. I thrashed around some more before accidentally kicking Lovino in the face. Wait no, I lied, I did it on purpose.

"Bitch!" He yelled, pulling out a wine bottle seemingly from nowhere and knocked me in the head.

I was out cold.

* * *

><p><strong>Date Unknown<strong>

**Location Unknown**

"I think it's safe to say that she knows too much." Normally, this was not good news to wake up to. In many of the American movies I have seen, the villains would usually kill their captive within the following few minutes. Why? because they are nefarious. But at that moment, I was unconcern of that fact. All my thoughts were on my Goddamn headache. It felt as though a nail was slowly piercing its way through my skull. I could vaguely remember Lovino hitting me in the head. With wine. A rather proper injury for an Italian, if I may say.

I slowly opened my eyes and saw Ludwig on the phone by my bedside. The room was a scarlet red color and the world seemed to rumble. The German didn't notice me. "Are you sure Britain?" He asked uncertainly. ". . .Alright. I'll tell her everything. What if. . .you're right. I'll talk to you later. . .Lebewohl." He placed the phone back on the receiver.

Ludwig rubbed his temples for a few seconds before looking at me. "You're not dead," he stated plainly.

In truth, I thought that it was not proper conduct to be sarcastic right after waking up. But alas, times do change. I replied, "Delightful greeting."

He snickered and took an open bottle off the bedside. From the smell, I could tell it was beer. "Want one?" he asked, taking a swing for himself. Reluctantly, I nodded. He took another bottle off the table and handed it to me. I painfully sat up and took a drink. The burn felt good running down my throat. After a few minutes, Ludwig said, "I was just talking to Arthur there, and we agreed that we have to tell you what's going on."

I nodded. "So are you people sparkly vampires or something?"

The blond snickered, but then laughed. "Mein Gott no! Where did you get that pathetic idea?"

I gave a sigh. "I just spent a week with Alfred! What do you. . ." I trailed off, remembering the previous events."Will Alfred be okay?"

"Yeah. Arthur said that the bullet didn't hit anywhere important." He crossed his legs. "But we really need to get this explanation over with."

"Okay. So what's going on?"

Ludwig put a second of thought into what he said next. "Feli, Kiku, Antonio, Me, Alfred, everyone with our 'job' are the human personifications of countries." I couldn't help myself, I snickered. "What?" he demanded, sounding pissed off.

"I'm sorry," I said, clutching my side. "It's just- that sounds so lame!"

He scowled. "Well it's not. Our jobs are very important." He took another drink and got a far off look in his eyes. "We are our countries. We grow, live, and die like them."

That was unbelievable, but still very curious. "What do you mean by that?"

He shrugged, "It's like. . .I'll just give you an example. You know Arthur and Alfred right?" I nodded. "Well they represent the United Kingdom and the United States. When North America was discovered and the colonies set-up, Britian- I mean Arthur -was considered Alfred's older brother. He raised, nurtured, and cared for him. Like the Britain at the time, he loved that child. However, when Alfred turned into a teenager, he knew that Arthur had complete control of his life and demanded freedom. Thus the Revolutionary war began."

I tried to absorbed all that. "So because Alfred wanted freedom, a whole war was started?"

Ludwig shook his head. "No it's more like because the American people started the war, Alfred wanted freedom. If they were satisfied with Britain controlling their government, then Alfred would never had minded Arthur's presence in his life."

I frowned, feeling a sting of pity. "So you guys have no control of you life?"

He nodded. "Basically." In my own way, I knew how he felt. But even so, I had feelings of my own. Didn't Ludwig? I asked him my question. He shook his head. "People like Francis believe so, but I disagree. I have to love and support that damn bastard Hitler." That last part was said with sheer anger.

"You sound as though he hate him," I pointed out. "Surely that's your own feelings."

"I would like to say that it is, but there's the German Jews who are my scapegoats right now. They definitely hate him."

"What about other people?" I asked. My big mouth was being stupid and decided to proclaim the suspicion I've been having: "Don't you like Feli? I mean, like-like?" I grew red when I said it.

He gave me an odd look, but still got the smallest blush I've ever seen over come his face. "Yes I do 'like-like' Feli, but. . ." His eyes (not face since he's emotionally stifled) turned melancholy. "Feli represents the Northern haft of Italy and our two countries are in an alliance. For all I know, my feelings are just that."

"What about me? I'm not a country."

"But I hate you and you caused my government a lot of trouble." For once, I couldn't argue that point.

After hearing this guy go out of character for me and tell me his deepest feelings (must be from drinking all that beer), I felt it necessary to be a caring figure for him (Eek gag, I sounded way too caring right there; must be from all the beer). "I know how you feel," I said reluctantly. I knew quiet well that by saying that, I would have to tell him some of the truth about my past. I was prepared.

Ludwig laughed bitterly. "How can you possibly know how I feel? Have you ever lived a life where you have no decisions of your own?"

I didn't blink and took a swing of my drink. "I do."

"How?" Here comes the bomb shell. . .

"I'm engaged."

His reaction- I must say -was hilarious. First, he chocked a bit on his beer, before spitting it all out completely. Then, he started stuttering. "E-en-engaged?" He exclaimed. "Yo-you're engaged!"

Now here's where I tortured him: I acted as though it wasn't a big deal. "Yup. Since collage. That's why I had to break up with my collage boyfriend."

Ludwig took a deep breath, regaining his composure. "Who are you engaged to?"

This next part I kind of felt bad for him. He just turned back into being serious, yet I was going to deprive him of his dignity. "I have no idea."

"W-what?" I was going to laugh at his expression later, in private where I could shoot beer through my nose, cause you know, I totally didn't do that right there and then. I'm way too cool to do so. . .Okay yeah I did do it, but at least I didn't hit Ludwig with it!

I felt as though the fun part was over- I had to get serious. I nodded and stared out the window by my bed, The scenery was moving past us at an alarming rate. Women's intuition told me that we were on a train.

"My Dad told me that he would always make sure I never had a worry in the world." My mouth was moving on its own accord. Who knew I was so thoughtful? "He told me early on that I was going to go to collage to be a nurse. I did so. While I was in collage, living my life, he told me that we wanted me to marry some guy named Walter Alwin. So I guess in a way I understand how you feel."

Ludwig seemed interested about my love life. 'Have you ever met this Walter?"

I shook my head. 'No, but I've heard of him. The Alwin family owns a lot of hospitals and medical schools in America, Britain, and France."

He stared blankly at me. "So he's rich."

"So is my family," I pointed out. "We're in the oil business."

He crossed his arms. "Exploiting your children for money, that's just sick."

I chuckled. "I know." We sat in an awkward silence for a few moments. "Do you guys have any super powers?" I asked. Hey, if you just found out that the German in your room wasn't human, you would ask the same question!

Surprisingly, said German put a lot of thought into his answer. "Well it changes from person to person. Alfred has super strength and Arthur can use magic and see magical creatures-" Oh God, so he did use magic to heal me. "-And there's this one guys who can turn invisible- can't really remember his name right now. But a super power. . ." The realization hit him. "Say something in Italian to me."

I blinked; odd request. "Il vostro taglio di capelli ti fa sembrare stupido."

He touched his head, smoothing his hair. "You really think so? I think it looks intelligent." I gave him an odd look; I had said that I thought his hair cut made him look stupid. Last I checked, he didn't know Italian. He smiled at my confused look. "We can understand all languages. When you spoke, I knew you were speaking Italian, but I heard you say it in German. I still can't speak the language though."

"What's the point of that?"

"I guess so that we countries can understand each other. You may not believe this, but we don't know much about ourselves either; it's not as though we have a God to look to." I had mixed feelings about that last statement. Being Italian, I was obviously Catholic. However, I haven't gone to church in years.

"But how is it that you can speak English?"

"Back when Britain was the strongest country in the world, he suggested that the rest of us learned English since it was one of the most spoken languages at the time. Most of us did, others told him to piss off." I chuckled.

Ludwig took another drink. "Which reminds me." He reached into his pocket and pulled out my small, leather bound book. "This is yours." My heart dropped. Yeah, I knew that I had left it back in Italy, but I didn't expect him to be carrying it around with him.

I awkwardly accepted it. "Um thanks."

"Your Iron Cross, I fixed the clasp on it, so you can wear it and not always have it in that book." Even the German sounded as though he thought it was awkward.

I opened the pages and found the Iron Cross, and sure enough, the clasp to it's silver chain was fixed. I didn't make a move to put it on; I'll do that later. Instead I gave him a suspicious look. "What else of my stuff do you have?"

Ludwig pointed at two suit cases at the room's corner. "All your stuff is right there."

"Why?"

"Our location in Italy has been compromised when we had the revelation of an Allied spy spying on us." He gave a dramatic pause. "We're not going back to Feli's villa."

My heart sank, I had grown to love that villa. Plus I had put all that effort into cleaning the library. Was that all for waste? "Where are we going then?"

The German smiled. "My home at the country side of Berlin." A Romanian castle filled with blood thirsty vampires was the first thing that came to my mind. Ludwig stood and walked to the door, saying, "There's a few more countries living there as well, so be prepared. We'll be at Berlin by the morning, so rest up- you're going to need it."

He flashed me a serious look. "And by the way, this conversation never happened." I gave him a confused look, causing him to explain, "The whole 'my life is controlled by other people' part- that never happened. I just explained to you what we are."

I covered my smiled with my hand. He was embarrassed by it! How cute. "Alright, as long as the whole 'I'm engaged' part never existed."

"Deal." he started to leave again.

"Um Ludwig, two questions."

He sighed, annoyed. "Make it quick."

"Do I call you guys by your country names or by your normal one?"

"Most of us prefer humans calling us by our human names," He explained plainly. "but there is the few exceptions. When in doubt, just use the human name."

Okay, odd answer. "Second, can you die?" Ludwig gave me a funny look. "When that incident at Vash's house occurred, Alfred said that he had known Kiku for at least 60 years, but he doesn't look that old. So are you immortal?"

"No, if you shoot us, we'll die." He gave me a smirk. "That must be to much of your joy."

Most women would had deny having thoughts about killing other people. However, like Kiku told me on that rainy day, I am not like most women. "It is. Say, since Ivan had attacked me back there, does that mean I can have a gun?" You know, for protection.

He walked out the room, telling me not in a million years. It wasn't until he left the room did I laid back down.

They could die, so these people weren't HETAs. Even so, how did I know that Ludwig was telling the truth? I couldn't necessarily just shoot the man to see if he was, but at the moment, what else could I do? He had already admitted to not being human. This all felt like one big cazzo.

I rolled onto my side and stared out the open window, thinking about who was which country. _"Feli was Northern Italy, so Lovino must be the south. Ludwig was Germany, Kiku Japan, Alfed had to be America, and Arthur was Britain. Ivan was Russia, or what it the Soviet Union? Antonio was Spain. . ."_

* * *

><p><strong>MW: <strong>Well, seven chapters and the plot thickens! Finally! So did anyone suspect any of that to happen? Probably. . .Now to the important matters.

One: I don't mind helpful reviews. If people point out plots holes/ grammar mistakes, then I feel as though they really care about the story.

Two: Speaking of grammaer mistakes, the chapter was proofread by there is any mistakes, blame her!

Three: Sek brought the issue of pairings into the story. Let me explain something: by no romance, I meant for Annie. She doesn't deserve love. Plus OC romance stories are really stereotypical (and I love breaking stereotypes). However, who said the Hetalia boys can't have any realatioships ;) If there is any problems with this, please tell me and I won't do it. If people say they don't mind, then pairings will be listed next chapter.

Remeber to review! We're over twenty, let's see if see can reach thirty!

**Funfacts and Translations**

"Her boobs are just as existent as mine" Reference to first season. After a villager confuses Leichstein for a boy, she goes to her chest and searches for her boobs. Yeah, only a pervert like me would remeber that.

"Filles instead of des garçons" Girls instead of boys. French

"moving his hand away from my butt-" Spain's part of the Bad Touch Trio. Nuff said.

""You didn't even send a declar-" When Pearl Habor occured, Americans were shocked because they was no declaration of war. However, the Japanese government had sent one, it just didn't reach Congress in time for the attack.

"What about 60 years ago?" At the start of the anime, there was this dramatic monlouge by Germany on his new allies. He had stated that Japan had only been 'open' to the world for 60 years.

"..and yet you betrayed me- aru" In the webcomic, Japan attacked China and have hima lovely scar on his back.

"Bouffe ma queue calisse de fag," Eat my cock you fucking faggot. French (I am so sorry for that one.)

"I must become stronger to prevent that." In the webcomic and anime, Japan told China that he wanted to become stronger so that he can take on the Western Powers.

"Lebewohl" Goodbye. German.

"cazzo" Fuck. Italian.

**Next Chapter: **Annie arrives in Berlin and meets a piano lover, his frying-pan-weilding-ex-wife, and his awesome enemy. Wonder who they are. . .

**_R-E-V-I-E-W~!_**


	8. Piano Lover, Frying Pan, and Awesome Me

**MW: ***stares intently at the computer screen*

**SEK**: DUDE! I just finished editing- what are you doing?

**MW**: We're at 27 reviews

**SEK**: Yeah, and?

**MW**: *grabs shirt collar* THAT'S THREE AWAY FROM 30!

**SEK**: Wow, that's great. . . aren't you gonna tell them?

**MW**: Tell them what?

**SEK**: The pairings! Since you know, no one objected to there being some romance!

**MW**: Is that why you're here? For the pairings? Not because you love me?

**SEK**: GET ON WITH IT!

**MW**: *grumble* Fine then. The pairings are : Ameripan, Aushun, Spamono, Gerita, and Rochu. And just for warning, I am not a fluffy person, therefore, don't expect anything fluffy. *goes back to staring at screen*

**SEK**: *sigh* Please review so that she'll stop doing that.

**Chapter Summary: **As some rather awesome people are introduced, Annie has a revelation.

**Warnings: **Language, Mentions of Nudity, and sheer awesomeness

**Disclaimer: **Even though I own Annie, I do not own Hetalia

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 8~<strong>

**The Piano Lover, the Frying Pan, and the Awesome One**

* * *

><p><strong>December 8, 1941<strong>

**Berlin, Germany**

You want to know something funny? Ludwig owns his own train. I didn't necessarily believe it either until I noticed that most of the ten carts were empty. I guess its part of the quirks of being a country.

. . .

As you may have guessed, I'm freaking out right now. I'm in stinking Berlin! I repeat, Berlin! The capital of all Nazism! If anyone found out I was here, then I would be marked as a Nazi sympathizer for the rest of my life!

"Ti muovi il culo già?" Lovino called from the other side of the door, sounding very pissed off. In case you were wondering, he was telling me to get my ass moving.

I scowled and made sure I had everything. I was in the same room Ludwig had left me in yesterday. I haven't emerged from here at all, mostly since I needed time to gather my thoughts. Learning that your bosses aren't human is a very big shock. "Vengo!" I called back, satisfied that all of my clothes were still in my suit cases.

Today, my outfit was black trousers, a white dress shirt, and a brown coat. The weather in Germany was actually very raining and contained chances of snow (Of course we wouldn't go anywhere with warm sunlight and beautiful clear skies, I mean, we all just _love_ cold dreary weather). I stuffed my leather book into my coat pocket. It was much thinner now, considering the fact that my Iron Cross was hanging off my neck and under my clothes (wasn't about to let Ludwig know he did me a favor). However, I did stick Arthur's business card into the book's crisp pages. I was afraid of losing it if I placed it anywhere else.

Grabbing my luggage, I opened the door and laughed. Standing against the walls of the train was a scowling Lovino. On the left side of his face was a small, black bruise. I giggled. "Non è divertente!" He snapped. It's not funny!

"Sì, lo è!" I replied. "Ho fatto dare a voi!" Yes it is, I did give it to you!

He pointed at the fist size bruise on my forehead, the one I had received when he hit me with a wine bottle. "Almeno la mia dannata livido mi fa sembrare culo hot sexy," he said. "Distinti ti fa apparire come un fastidioso slut."

I frowned. He just told me that his bruise made him look "damn, hot sexy ass" while mine made me look like a 'troublesome slut". "Let's get going," I said, admitting defeat. The Italian smirked and led me down the hall and across two carts. When we arrived, I immediately returned to my thoughts of Ludwig being a spoil rich kid.

This cart acted as a damn sitting room! The walls were a red color and the chairs were a soft velvet. Black out curtains hung from the windows. The German in possession of all this sat in one of the chairs, reading a German newspaper. He wore a crisp black suit and, like always, his blond locks were slicked back neatly. If I actually liked him, I would have thought him to be dashing. Unfortunately, I am not some obsessed teenager set on marrying a buff German. Therefore, I say he looked rather prissy dressed up like that.

Ludwig glanced at me, but quickly got back to his newspaper. "Guten morgen," he greeted. His voice was cool and distant, "The train will arrive at the station in a few minutes." He treated me the way he always did, cold and indifferent. I was relieved; I didn't think I could manage being nice to him in return.

Antonio strode across the room towards me, his arms out stretch in a hug. He was also dressed very formally, except his white dress shirt was un-tucked, loose, and the first few buttons were undone. "Buenos días!" He greeted, giving me a light hug and a kiss on both cheeks. They actually have greetings like that in Italy, so I didn't particularly mind it. In fact, I returned the favor.

The Spaniard looked at Lovino. "Romano," he said. "Come give your boss a kiss~!." I covered up a smiled as Lovino told him flat out no. I could only guess that 'Romano' was the man's 'country name' since both he and Feli represented Italy.

"No way in hell" Lovino repeated, when he asked again.

"Aw, be a good sport Lovi," I said, chuckling lightly. "Go give him a kiss." Ludwig shot me a glare, as if to say not to encourage him. I stuck my tongue out at him.

The Italian opened his mouth, ready to say something about not calling him that, when something was pressed against his mouth. Correction, Antonio's mouth was pressed against his. I gave him a shocked look. By kiss, I thought he meant the traditional kiss on both cheeks, not the fierce French kissing that he was giving Lovino now. I think the worst part was that the Italian was returning the favor.

I inched away was the couple and stood right next to Ludwig. "W-why are they doing that?" I asked, a bit more than a little freaked out.

The German chuckled at my confusion. "Those two have been a couple since Antonio was a teenager raising six year old Lovino." He explained, turning the page of his reading material.

"Antonio likes younger men?" I asked. The simple prospect of it was gross.

Ludwig nodded. "Yes he does. We consider Francis to be the rapist and my older bruder to be the pervert. Together, they make the 'Bad Touch Trio', or as Elizaveta likes to call them." Again with his older brother. Why is it that people keep on mentioning this guy, yet they never actually tell me who he is? And who was this Elizaveta person? "But I thought you liked the idea of two guys dating each other."

I knew he was bringing it up because of all the times I 'aw'ed at him and Feli. For your information, that was because I wanted to make fun of him, not because I supported it. Why would I support it, really? I mean, it was cute the way Antonio was now snuggling to an objecting Lovino, but still two guys together? That's pretty gross.

. . .

Fuck you guys!

"Ohayou," A steady voice greeted. I turned and saw Kiku, holding a single case of luggage, walk into the cart from the other door. He was wearing a suit like Ludwig's, except he seemed rather stiff in it. I couldn't blame him; all the times I had seen him at Feli's villa, he was either wearing traditional Japanese garments or loose, casual western clothes.

I was happy to see him. I wanted to ask him about what happened yesterday between him and Alfred. "Buongiorno," I greeted in Italian. "How are you today?" I wasn't afraid of speaking so much Italian anymore, I mean, they should be able to understand me.

"I'm good Annie-san," he replied, acting like his normal self. That was a relief. Kiku placed his belongings on the ground and walked up to Ludwig. "Ludwig-san." His soft voice had a tinge of remorse in it.

His black head of hair bent down low when he gave a low bow. "I am sorry," he said, holding his stance of respect. "I let him take control of me and I am sorry for causing you so much trouble. I hope that you can forgive me."

Ludwig gave of respectful nod. "I know you can't help it Kiku," he said plainly. "But you really do need to apologize to Alfred more than me."

Like a school girl, I raised my hand up in the air. "What are you two talking about?" I asked.

The two exchange glances, before giving each other a nod. "Annie-san," Kiku said, standing back upright. "When I forget myself, I can sometimes go into a state of- how would I describe this?"

"There are two Kikus," Ludwig explained. "One of them is this Kiku here, the other one dates back to the feudal era of Japan. Basically, if Kiku's desire for power gets too strong, he reverts back to his feudal era self. You saw that yesterday at the exchange."

I nodded, barely following what he was saying. "Hai. Alfred-san has dubbed that state to be known as 'Dark Japan'." Kiku had a far off look in his eyes, as if remembering something. "He had said that Dark Japan was a mouth full and said that he was going to use just Dark for short."

I gave him a weird look. "But Dark sounds like some cheep villain name," I said.

Kiku nodded in appreciation. "Yes it does Annie-san."

The train slowed down into a steady halt. Voices from the train station leaked into the room in a soft muffle. I peeked outside and saw that mixed among the people were German military officers. I could tell since they were all in uniform and wore a red band on their arms. "Your officers sure aren't obvious," I noted, drowning my voice in sarcasm. I turned, expecting to see a frowning Ludwig, just to find the tables turned.

Ludwig was holding up a red, Nazi armband for me to wear. He was smirking at me, as if to dare me to refuse. I frowned, noting that one was already on his arm. "I'm not wearing that," I stated, looking at the cloth as if it was radioactive.

"You don't have a choice," he replied. "As your boss, I order you to put it on." Does he really think that the whole boss thing was going to work on me? Man, he really doesn't know me.

I folded my arms stubbornly. "I refuse."

Kiku placed a hand on my shoulder. "Annie-san, please listen to Ludwig-san." There was a similar band on his arm too.

"He should give me one good reason why."

Ludwig gave me a look full of anger. "You have brown hair and your skin is a little tan," he said, not letting his anger seep into his voice. "People are going to think you're Jewish, or even a Gypsy. If you're wearing this, there will be a lot less of a chance of you getting harassed by some soldier." He held the band out to me again. "Put it on."

Antonio and Lovino, finished with their kissing, watched this exchanged intently. Antonio wasn't wearing one, but Lovino was grudgingly sliding his up his arm. I shook my head, feeling my temper melt a bit. "Listen here Ludwig." My voice also seemed to be on the edge. "I'm sorry that I'm not part of your Aryan race, or whatever you call it, but there is no way in hell am I going to mark myself as one of you Nazis."

Ludwig's hand shot out and grabbed my shirt roughly. Slamming me against the nearest wall, his ice blue eyes pierced through my skin. "Listen here," he growled coldly. "You can either put it on while you have the chance, or would you rather I put you out on the streets to get beaten and shot?" With his free hand, he pulled out his own gun and pressed the cold barrel against my temple. It sent shivers down my spine. "If you want, I can shoot you now before you get sent to Auschwitz, because once your there, I'll make sure they gas you slowly."

Fear paralyzed my body. I'm sad to say this, but I was terrified of the German before me. I didn't know how, but I knew that the man before me wasn't the Ludwig I knew and hated. I remembered our conversation yesterday_. "We are our countries,"_ He had said_."We grow, live, and die like them."_ Could it be, perhaps, that this was Nazi Germany I was speaking to? I thought it was a good guess, since Kiku did have his Dark Japan issue (though that was apparently from his Feudal era days).

I made no effort to fight against my attacker. Antonio and Kiku were telling him to calmly put me down. Lovino was yelling every swear he knew at the 'Damn Potato Bastard'. It was quiet obvious that he wasn't going to put me down until I agreed. I did my best to sound fierce, but my voice came out only in a whisper. "Alright, I'll wear it."

Upon hearing the words, Ludwig's grip loosen and I slid to the ground. I ripped the band from his hands and slid it up my arm. "There," I snapped, feeling much braver on my butt than in the blonde's hold. I gave it a good pat and making sure the swastika was in clear view. "Happy?"

His ice blue eyes soften and he adverted his gaze in what I guessed to be a sign of guilt. "Good," he muttered. His voice was barely audible. "Das tut mir Leid." He must have realized that he was speaking in German. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just. . . let's get going."

We gathered our stuff and Ludwig opened the train door. Reluctantly, I trailed after him and stepped off the train. There were a few people who stared at us just to quickly go along after their business. I noticed the officers taking glances at each other, just to look away when they saw Ludwig. It made me feel naked, vulnerable. "How long are we going to be here?" I asked grudgingly.

"Actually Annie, the question is how long you are going to be here." I gave the speaker, Antonio, a funny look.

"You're not staying?" I asked, sitting on one of my suit cases as Ludwig and Kiku went off to go grab us a cart.

His curly brown hair bobbled as he nodded. "At least Kiku and I are. It's not good for a neutral country to be associating so much with someone on a side."

I glanced at Lovino, who was scowling as he leaned against the train . . . checking German ladies out. "What about Lovino?"

"Lovino is staying here in Germany with you." Antonio looked at Lovino. "Isn't that right Lovi~?"

The Italian scoffed. "Like I had a damn choice," he said, stuffing a girl's number into his pocket (he was a bigger flirt than Francis). "The boss wants Feli to help him with some paper work involving Venice." That's right, Feli was the Northern haft and Lovino was the Southern haft.

I cocked my head to the side. "Do all of you refer to your country's leader as 'boss'?" I asked, seeing Kiku and Ludwig return. He said they did, and we loaded our luggage onto the cart. I remembered vaguely Ludwig telling me that there were more countries at his house.

"Well this is going to be interesting," I thought, feeling very amused. The countries I have already met are very- how do I put this nicely? -unique as is. How could these be any different?

* * *

><p><strong>December 8, 1941<strong>

**Ludwig's House**

As it turned out, these new countries were crazy! It's as if they had lost all of their sanity! We drove up in Ludwig's black car to a large, traditional German house. It was white, with gray bricks with those criss-crossing wood planks. The roof-tops were slanted and the windows had garden boxes underneath them.

The surrounding land was low-lying, marshy woodland. However, the house itself was on a flat area of green grass, outreaching a football field's length all around. Unlike Feli's villa, there was no wall around his land; it wasn't necessary. The house was so excluded that a serial killer would have found it ideal for killing his victims. I stepped out of the car, gazing at his house. "Nice place," was the only thing I was able to say before I was bear hugged

"Ve~!" Feli cooed in a warm ball of happiness. "You're alive~!"

I patted his head of auburn hair. "Of course I'm still alive," I snapped angrily, though my body language was that of a loving mother's.

"Feli!" Another female voice called. I glanced up and noticed a woman's outline passing by one of the windows. "Mi folyik ott?" The language was unfamiliar and rough against my ears.

Feli called back, "Ve~! Hungry~! Come outside and meet Annie~!" Lovino pried his younger brother off of me and started scolding him for not greeting him first. My concentration was kept on the door, waiting for this Hungry to appear- Wait, isn't Hungry a nation? Oh, yay! My first new nation! I can't wait to see how she looks. From everyone I had so far met, I knew that these countries are really attractive people, so I could only presume that so will she.

In fact, when Hungry came through the door, I thought she was a model. Her long brown locks came down to her waist and framed a perfect figure. The skirt of her dress was pink, whereas her black sleeves came from a green bodice. On her head was a yellow head scarf.

Her green eyes light up when she saw me. "Szia," she greeted. "Elizaveta Hedervary nak hívnak." I would love to say that I amazingly knew Hungarian, but I don't, so I gave her a crazy look. She took my hint. "I'm sorry," she said, speaking decent English. "My name is Elizaveta Hedervary."

I out-stretched my hand. "Its fine," I said as the women accepted it. "My name is Annie Henson." Now, being the total kiss-up I am, I figured that I should try to give her a compliment. "Your English is very good."

Elizaveta smiled. "No, it really is not," she replied. The girl spoke slowly, as if having to decide on what she was going to say before she said it. "I only recently started to learn it, so please excuse me when I need someone to translate something for me." I guess she was one of the people who told Arthur to piss off. She didn't seem like it though, the beauty was very polite.

"English isn't my first language either," I said. "So I know how you-" I paused, hearing one the most dreaded sounds in the world: barking. From around the corner came three huge dogs; a Golden Retriever, a German Shepard, and a black dog I couldn't name the breed of. All three came running from where ever devil spawns are made and gathered around Ludwig.

Here's where the amazing part occurred. Ludwig smiled and petted them all affectionately. These were his dogs! It just figures, the German I hated the most would own three of the creatures I hated the most. Elizaveta noticed my wariness. "Do you not like the dogs?" she asked curiously.

I nodded as I watched Antonio, Feli, and Kiku start to pet them as Lovino announced that the "Damn potato bastard's dogs" didn't deserve to be pet by him. I hated dogs with a passion. When I was little, a big dog tackled me to the ground and playfully bit my arm. Naturally, I panicked and had a minor fear for dogs ever since. It really wasn't a big deal; I was a cat person anyways (although cats have a tendency not to be an 'Annie person').

She smiled and patted my back. "Aster, Blackie, and Berlitz are harmless," she said. There was obviously more to that statement, but her attention was drawn elsewhere. 'Ah, Ausztria," she said to the door. "Leszel te, hogy a lány olasz elmondta nekünk." Again with the Hungarian.

I looked at the door and saw an angel from heaven.

. . .

Okay, that sounded weird. I guess I was trying to be poetic and find a new way to say that this guy was very good looking. But it was strange in the sense that I felt a sense of power seeping from him. When the man Elizaveta was talking to came walking through the door way, I saw that he was rather tall, nearly as tall as Ludwig. His dark hair was slicked back as well, but stuck out at random places. Hard violet eyes observed the world around him from round glasses. To summarize it all, he was very angelic.

She said something to him again before he finally addressed me. "So you are this Annabel Italy mentioned?" he asked, looking over my appearance. His eye twitched when he looked at my pants. Great, another dress lover.

I ignored his criticizing glare. "You can call me Annie," I said, giving him my hand to shake.

He shook his head. "Your name is Annabel, therefore I will call you as such. I am Austria, however you may refer to me as Roderich Edelstein." As angelic as he may look, this Roderich was very rude. Ugh! I hate it when people don't match their appearances.

Now I was told to play nice with the other children today, but occasionally a little friendly punch wouldn't hurt anyone. "Your name is Austria," I said, mimicking his official tone. I didn't even attempt the German accent (my fake one sucks). "Therefore I will call you as such."

I expected a reaction similar to the one Ludwig was now giving me: a Didn't I Tell You Not to Be a Smart Ass Today speech. However, Roderich smiled. "Ludwig," he called, immediately hushing the German. "She's the perfect image of someone with a sense of humor. Watch and you might learn something from her." Everyone (but Ludwig) laughed. Scratch what I said earlier, this man was amazing.

Ludwig did his best to smile, but the corners twitched in irritation. "Austria, please tell me you did the paperwork I asked you to," he said, a hand still petting his dogs.

Roderich frowned. "Of course I did it," he said, inching his way back to the door. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I saw what you did there!" We all glanced around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Elizaveta pull out a frying pan (where was she hiding that?). She growled something in Hungarian. Eventually, my eyes went upward and I saw the silhouette of a robust man on the house roof.

Everyone but me knew who he was. "Who's that?" I whispered, hoping to get in on this inside joke.

The stranger continued speaking. "That guy there: he spent your whole absence messing around with his damn piano." He laughed. "Beat that stupid aristocrat!"

Roderich scowled. "And you were drinking every barrel of beer Germany has," he resorted. I tried to ask who we were talking to again, just to be hushed by Antonio.

I was pissed, feeling slightly left out of the conversation. "Okay!" I yelled, glaring at the man on the roof. "Who the bloody hell are you?"

Romano muttered, "Ah shit, look what you did." I gave him an odd look. Surely I didn't do a bad thing-

The man jumped off the roof, drawing a sword from its sheath. He landed barely a foot in front of me, pointing the sword at me neck. I felt the cold metal cut a bit of my skin. "You want to know who am I?" He growled, his platinum bangs shielding his eyes from view. He bent down a bit so that our faces were leveled. "I am the awesome Kingdom of Prussia."

I stared blankly at him. If Roderich was white, then I guess this Prussia was black-total opposites. "Excuse me for saying, but Prussia isn't even a country anymore."

"What did you say?" The sword was pressed harder against my neck. I automatically raised my hands up in defeat. "Are you saying that I am not awesome enough to be a country anymore?"

A hand- Ludwig's -shot out and grabbed Prussia's wrist. "Look, I know that we both would love to kill her, but she was just stating the facts." Prussia relaxed a bit at the German's voice. "Now would you release her, bruder?"

Bruder? As in, German for 'brother'? As in, Ludwig's ever fated big brother? Yes! I finally get to meet this punk. The person I can blame for my boss's screwed up personality. So far, I can see how that is possible. Prussia lowered his sword. "Fine then," he looked me over.

His eyes traveled down my body, lingering longer on my chest and legs. It sent a shiver down my back. I remembered vaguely being told that he was a pervert. "You're a girl, right?" he asked, his eyes still on my chest.

I placed an arm over my chest. "Obviously."

Before I could stop him, Prussia ripped my arm away and groped my breast. "Where the hell are your boobs?" He exclaimed, having a grand old time squeezing them. "It's no fun having a maid if she has no boobs!"

Before I could get my hands around his throat, a certain frying pan made contact with the back of his head. Releasing me, he turned to Elizaveta. "What the hell Hungry!" he snapped, rubbing his developing bruise.

"Ne légy ilyen perverz!" She snapped, preparing herself for another swing. Again, I wish I could understand Hungarian.

Prussia grinned. "You're just jealous that the awe-" He got hit again. Antonio laughed and patted his back, telling him that he still loved him.

Roderich tapped me of the shoulder and whispered into my ear, "Call him Gilbert. Referring to him as Prussia would only strengthen ego."

Remember how I had a firm belief that these people couldn't be all that strange? I stand corrected.

* * *

><p><strong>December 8, 1941<strong>

**Sitting Room**

". . .and soon after, Austria and I were divorced." That was a very strange story. I'm not even sure how I got here. It was like a sudden scene change from a movie; this one would start with that line and a shot of Elizaveta placing her cup of coffee back on the table. The sitting room was a plain white color that looked gather gray under the weak winter sunlight. The room seemed rather formal.

According to the story my Hungarian friend told me, when Roderich came to live in Ludwig's house at the annexation of Austria, the German agreed to let the brunette decorate one of the rooms with his personal belongings. This included a glossy black grand piano. The tune Roderich was playing sounded like "Ode to Joy" but it was much calmer, more peaceful.

I took another sip of my coffee, letting the warm fluid fill my stomach. "That's sad to hear," I said. "I believe that you two are just perfect for each other." I know what you are thinking. I just met them, how could I know whether they were a perfect match for each other? Well, it's called British Mannerism. Basically, you agree with whatever the person said in a strange form of etiquette. In instances like this, it was very handy.

Elizaveta smiled. "Just because we're not married doesn't mean we no longer love each other," she said.

Roderich's voice came over the piano. "You don't know that for sure," he said, still able to play the tune perfectly. "You know what Germany believes."

She pouted. "Oh, toot-toot," she said, giving him a bit of sass. "Germany can go be his depressing self somewhere else."

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean the whole 'no free will' thing?"

Laughing, she gave a nod. "That is the one." The girl took another sip. 'I'm surprised he told you that."

I shrugged. "He was drinking a lot of beer." It occurred to me that I just broke my vow of silence (you know, I agreed with him that the conversation never happened?). I looked about, trying to find a new conversation. My eyes traveled to where Feli, Kiku, Gilbert, Lovino, and Antonio were playing football on the grass expanses.

And by football, I mean what you Americans call soccer. They kicked the ball between them, Ludwig's dogs occasionally trying to steal the ball from them. They seemed to get along quiet well. "Elizaveta, are you living here as well?" I asked. It was a reasonable question; she did seem to know her way around pretty well.

"I am. When Austria was-" She paused, thinking. "Oh, how do you say it?" She said something to Roderich in Hungarian. He told her it was 'annexed'. She nodded. "When Austria was annexed into Germany, he had been forced to live here. I wanted to join him, but now since I am part of the Axis, I can."

I nodded. That was understandable, though I wondered whether or not a woman could really love a man so much. I stared back out at the game. The men were playing fierce, even Feli. Mud was kicking onto their clothing as they slid across the grass. I smirked, wondering why Ludwig wasn't out there with them_. "I bet he's doing paperwork,"_ I thought_. "Though wouldn't it be funny if-" _I didn't even allow myself to finish that thought.

I was thinking back to a few hours earlier, to when we were on the train and Commander Grease Head when all psycho on me. His whole being has seemed to have gone cold. A perfect addition to their football match-but that's beside the point. His eyes were a cold, icy blue. That was significant to me, but why?

Elizaveta waved a hand across my face. "Annie, are you alright?" she asked, noticing my phase out.

I ignored her, determined to figure out what was so important about his eye color. Then it suddenly hit me. When my mother died, the monster- the HETA -he . . _. The monster lifted his face from the ground, sand sticking to the blood on his face. His ice blue eye glared at me as the moon illuminated his blond hair._

My breathing stopped. Was Ludwig the monster? He had the same blue eyes and their hair was the same color. "No," I thought. "There are many people that have that combination. Alfred has blue eyes and blond hair." But Alfred's eye color had a different shade.

Elizaveta said something to Roderich in Hungarian. It snapped me from my state. "I'm fine!" I said quickly. I noticed Roderich was no longer at the piano, but at the door. It was most likely she told him to go get me some help. "I just would like to take a nap." I needed to spend some time alone.

"Wouldn't you like to take a shower first?" I nodded, realizing the cold sweat that covered my back. I followed her out of the room and down the hall. She opened to door for me and handed me a towel from the cabinet. This was a rather small chamber, most of the space being taken up by a sink over some cabinets, a loo, and a shower.

I tried my best to act natural. "Can you call me when diner has to be prepared?" I asked, already starting to take off my shoes.

"Oh you don't have to prepare diner." She waved her hands about. "I usually do that-"

"But I'm the maid and it's my job to spoil you."

The beauty smiled at me, giving in to my request. "You're a sweet heart, you know that?" Wow, she really doesn't know me. "I suppose that I could still give you a. . ." She trailed off, noticing that I was pulling off my white dress shirt. "I should leave you know."

I acted as though it wasn't a big deal. "You probably should." She left me and I finished stripping down. I put the water on the hottest it could and climbed in.

I sighed and continued with my thoughts. The monster, it could have been Ludwig. Same hair, same eyes. He already admitted that the countries lived extended lives. _"But he said that they died."_ It was possible that he was lying. The water burnt me and I turned the temperature down. I remembered vaguely Dad panicking when I told him that my boss's had country nicknames.

He must have known about all this. And maybe he suspected that Ludwig did it as well. It meant that I just had to find was shred of evidence to prove it to the other members of the Society. But if Ludwig was a HETA, did that mean so was everyone else? Kiku, Elizaveta, Antonio, Gilbert (well actually I could care less about him), even Harmless Feli? I shook my head. This was bad, very bad.

But I had to support Dad; he is my father after all. And families do stuff like this: help each other take down an evil organization of inhuman beings. Even if they are some of the best people you ever met-

The shower curtain was thrown open. "West!" Gilbert exclaimed. "Are you in here?" I shrieked and punched him in the face.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" I asked.

He huffed. "What does it look like the awesome me is doing? I'm looking for my bruder."

"In the shower?"

He shrugged, 'I thought maybe he scored and was going to get laid or-" I hit him again. I bet this guy was so stupid because Elizaveta killed his brain cells by hitting him so much. This didn't faze him at all. "Keseses~!" He exclaimed, pointing at me. "I never expected you to be so awesome!"

I gave him a funny look. "What do you mean. . ." I trailed off, suddenly realizing that I was standing before him in all my glory . . . naked. I squealed and pulled the shower curtain shut. The Prussian broke out into an uncontrollable laughter. "I'm going to kill you when I get out!" I yelled.

"Yeah, yeah," I heard him get up and open the bathroom door. "The awesome me will never be killed by anybody, especially a mere human like you!"

The door slammed shut behind him. I swear that man will be the first to die. I finished my shower and dried off. I threw my clothes back on and shook my hair dry (it was still short enough to dry within five minutes). Walking back down the halls, I muttered threats underneath my breath.

I was deciding between scalping his thick head and gouging his eyes out when I heard his voice in the kitchen. The kitchen also had white walls, though it was much more modern than the one at Feli's villa. There was the latest model of refrigerators and ovens. The dark wood cabinets were polished to a shine. I peered into the room and saw him talking calmly to Elizaveta, who had her hands in the sink, doing dishes. Unfortunately, I am terrible at espionage and he saw me. The man cracked-up laughing again before running through the back door and out of sight.

The other saw me and gave an odd look. "Do you know why he did that?" she asked. The phone on the wall started to ring and I shook my head. It was best not to let someone else get revenge before I did. Elizaveta got back to her earlier chore. "Annie, can you get that for me?"

I nodded and answered the phone. "Hello-"

"Dude! Annie! Is that you?" The voice was loud and nearly shattered my ear drums. I was shocked- I expected to never hear from Alfred F. Jones again.

"Alfred," I said. I was at a lost for conversation. The injury he had sustained the previous day floated into my mind. "How are you feeling? Are you calling from a hospital?"

"Hospital?" He asked. The confusion in his voice worried me- any sane person would have gone to the hospital with an injury like his. Then again, he was not the most sane person, but Arthur should had forced admitted him still. "Oh yeah! I was released a few hours ago." Highly unlikely, but okay. "So what's up? The old man tells me that you know all about us."

I laughed nervously. 'Um, yeah. It's nice to know what's going on and stuff."

"Yup. Like good old George told me, 'it's great to be America!'" I don't think George Washington ever said anything remotely close to that. "Anyways, is Japan there? I need to tell him that I'm declaring war."

I gasped. "Against Kiku?"

"Yup! So is he there?" I sighed and reluctantly called for him.

The man seemed sad to leave his football game, but the minute I told him it was Alfred, he readily took the phone. "Hai. This is Japan."

Even though I wasn't holding the phone, I could easily hear what Alfred was saying; he was just that loud. "Hey hommie! Just called to tell ya that I'm declaring war against you."

Kiku nodded, excepting this fact easily. "As expected, America-san."

"What? That's it?" Alfred sounded disappointed. "That's all you're gonna say?"

The other coughed a bit. "Well actually there is something I would like to apologize for."

I didn't get a chance to hear what. Elizaveta tapped my shoulder and suggested we left, saying that Kiku deserved some private time to talk to Alfred. "Are they a couple?" I asked when we left the room.

Elizaveta shrugged as she made sure the kitchen door was closed all the way. I could hear the muffle of their voices still. "It's hard to explain," she said. "I would need someone to translate."

"Well can you translate this for me?" We paused and saw both Roderich and Ludwig sitting at a couch with a bunch of letters spread out before them on a mahogany coffee table. Ludwig was holding up a letter for us to see. As far as I could tell, it was written in a language I couldn't verify.

We both sat in the arm chairs across from him and Elizaveta took the letter. "Who is it from?" she asked, scanning over the letter carefully.

"Turkey," Ludwig spat unhappily. You know, I never understood why someone would name a country after a bird. Or was it naming a bird under a country. Probably the latter.

"So it's in Turkish,." She bit her lip in a scowl. "I still hate that man."

That was curious. Hesitantly, I asked, "Excuse me for being intrusive, but why do you hate him?" My question made Ludwig huff.

"When are you never intrusive?" he asked, folding his hands stubbornly.

Before I could give a comeback, Roderich clapped his hands. "That's enough," he scolded. "We're mature adults, not children."

I couldn't help myself but to add, "Or Gilbert." Ludwig stifled a laugh as Roderich scowled.

Our translator finished looking over the text. "This is not good," she muttered. In a loud voice, she read the message in Hungarian. Again, I could not understand a single word of it, but by the frowns forming on their faces, I could tell it was bad.

"What did it say?" I asked.

Elizaveta made a gesture that read 'I can't explain it in English' and Ludwig shook his head, leaving Roderich to explain. "Turkey was basically telling Germany that he was an idiot for breaking the law and threatened to kill both of you if he doesn't get rid of you first." There was so much to discuss in that sentence, like why would someone harbor the same urge to kill said German as I did. However, whenever someone mentions laws, it was always best to learn about them first.

"What is the law?' I asked.

"They're more like guidelines," he said. "They were created after the Black Death struck Europe. Before the plague, we were able to get by with our existence by telling people that we were angels sent down from heaven. However, so many people lost faith in God afterwards that we had to start acting more human like and only letting our bosses know that we existed. Eventually, this practice became a law that we abide."

I whistled. "That kind of sucks."

Elizaveta nodded. "It does," she said. "The best thing we can do is make sure you stay away from anyone who'll want you dead." I scowled. She makes it seem like I'm some weak being that can't protect herself.

"No, that's not possible." We looked at Ludwig. His eyebrows were stitched together in frustration.

"Why's that?" He silently handed me a letter. Surprisingly, it was in English and easy to read. It was an invitation to a Christmas party at 'Finland's house'. "A party?" I asked "Why is that so unusual?"

Ludwig slouched a bit in his chair, rubbing his temples in frustration. "Read who it's addressed to."

I looked at the indicated area. The exact words _were "Feliciano Vargas, Lovino Vargas, Kiku Honda, Gilbert Beliishmidt, Roderich Eldenstiran, Elizaveta Hedervary, Ludwig, and the human living with them is invited to a none political party." _

I thought over what I just read. "So I'm invited?" He nodded. "How do they know I'm here?"

Roderich answered me. "First thing you should learn about countries Annabel is that word travels quickly."

Are countries gossip girls? I could just imagine Feli drinking coffee at a table with Ludwig, giggling about whatever something Gilbert told him. "But there is a war going on," I pointed out. "Can you guys really put that aside for a silly party?"

"Yes we can." Ludwig said it in a way that made plain that he was glorifying my ignorance. "It's 'none political', that means we can't involve world politics."

"And I have to go?"

"Yes. Finland made it impossible to avoid bringing you along with us. The fact is that if Finland is interested in you, so is the rest of the world. If we decline, we risk getting harassed by Sweden, Turkey, or maybe even Russia- if he's in the mood." He had me at Russia.

Elizaveta handed Ludwig Turkey's letter. "It'll also be a good chance to get people like him to shut-up." She shot me a kind smile. "She's a very nice person, I'm sure the world would like her." Am I the only one thinking that it was weird hearing the word "world" use in such a manner?

Ludwig huffed, getting back onto his feet. "Well I'm sure they won't."

I sighed. "Well I don't care if people don't like me," I said. "It's their problem; not mine."

The blond shot me a glare. "You really are stupid. If they don't like you, I can guarantee that they're going to kill you." He picked up a stack of letters addressed for him. "I seriously suggest that you stop being so self involved and see the world the way it is." With that, he turned and left.

I was still scowling even long after his heavy footsteps stopped echoing around the house. It was silent expect for the noise of Antonio and Gilbert rejoicing over their football victory. He was right; I did need to take this seriously. I couldn't die just yet, there were still so many things that I needed to do.

I groaned and slouched in my chair. "Roderich, how does one 'woo the world' over?" I asked reluctantly.

He smirked, as if humored by my question. "You just need to impress them," he informed. "The best way to go at it would be to act like the perfect lady."

Of course it'll be something girlie like that! Why couldn't it be something from Greek legends? Didn't Jason have to get that Golden Fleece to impress some king dude? "I'll need you to teach me how." I said.

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were British, so you would know this stuff."

"I am British, but I attended a boarding school in America. I know more of the American culture than anything."

Elizaveta muttered, "If you can even call it a culture."

The Austria regarded my words for a few moments. His violet eyes stared out into the wall behind me. "Alright," he said at last. "But I warn you, I will not go easy on you."

Breathing a sigh of relief, I thanked him. That's right, Ludwig is the evil one. Everyone else is good people. It made me wonder: how can I prove that Ludwig is a HETA, but not the people who are innocent?

* * *

><p><strong>MW<strong>: That twas a fun chapter. Plus it's the longest yet! I had a little trouble with Prussia's character since he really doesn't play a role in the story till the second haft.

**SEK**: There's two parts?

**MW: **More or less; I consider the story to have two parts since *SPOLIER DELETED*

**SEK**: Oh, that's very interesting. I totally didn't see that coming.

**MW**: Everyone! Remember to drop in a review! If you don't. *Pulls out guns and points it at SEK* I will kill this innocent fangirl.

**SEK**: *tears up* Please review, I don't want to die.

**Fun Facts and Translations**

"Vengo!" Coming! Italian.

"obsessed teenager set on marrying a buff German." I'm looking at you BFTL

"Buenos días!" Good Morning! Spanish.

"Ohayou" Good Morning. Japanese.

"with those criss-crossing wood planks" If you didn't get my description, then look up traditional German houses on google.

"Mi folyik ott" What's going on? Hungarian.

"Szia. . .Elizaveta Hedervary nak hívnak." Hello, my name is Elizveta Hedervary. Hungarian.

"a black dog I couldn't name the breed of" A Doberman, for anyone curious.

"Ausztria. . .Leszel te, hogy a lány olasz elmondta nekünk." Austria, say hello to the girl Italy told us about. Hungarian.

"Ne légy ilyen perverz!" Don't be a pervert! Hungarian.

"They're more like guidelines" Haha, Pirates of the Caribbean reference.

**Next Chapter: **Austria reenacts "My Fair Lady" by trying to teach Annie how to be decorous.

**BFTL: **Hey guys! I'm here! We can start the- oh dang it! The A/N is over already!

*****REVIEW AND SAVE SEK'S LIFE*****


	9. Invasively Reading German Diaries is Fun

*****PREVIOUSLY IN THE AUTHOR'S NOTE*****

**MW**: *points gun at SEK* Now, review or else the innocent fangirl gets it.

**SEK**: *tears up* Please help me.

*****NOW FOR THE THRILLING CONCLUSION*****

**SEK**: *points to the computer screen* Look, three reviews!

**MW**: *groan* Fine. *lowers gun*

**SEK**: Wait, did you want to kill me?

**MW**: Well with how short this damn chapter is, I feel the need to take my anger out on someone.

**SEK**: Just fire the gun off in a random direction, I'm sure you won't hit anybody.

**MW**: Okay. *Fires gun*

**BFTL**: Hey guys! Are we doing the Aut- *is shot*

**SEK**:. . .You killed her!

**MW**: Ah shit.

**Chapter Summary**: As Annie learns to dance, a few random events occure.

**Warnings:** Language, References to Playboy countries, Seychelles

**Disclamiers: **Ah! Nearly forgot about you! I still don't own Hetalia.

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 9~<strong>

**Invasively Reading German Diaries is Fun!**

* * *

><p><strong>December 11, 1941<strong>

**Front Foyer**

I shivered and snuggled closer into my jacket. The universe was a combination of green and white; snow had just started falling and was steadily creating a blanket over the grass. Kiku stood next to me, at the front door. "Hopefully, this would not delay the plane," he said, steady eyes gazing out.

Today was the day of his departure back to Japan. I didn't want him to leave; Feli and Antonio had left a few days before. It felt lonely without both men's joyful atmosphere. When I asked him to stay longer, Kiku had just shook his head and told me he couldn't. "I'm at war with America-san now," he told me. "I must help my boss with the preparations."

"Are you sure that you want to go?" I asked, rubbing my arms for warmth. He nodded as a black car came driving up to the house. It was chauffeured by some German military officer. I still didn't like those Nazis. I sighed and handed him his single piece of luggage. "I wish I can come with you."

Amazingly, he gave me the smallest of smiles. "One of these days, maybe I shall bring you with me."

My face light up at the very prospect. "Yes!" I exclaimed, giving him a bear hug. "I would love to go to Japan!" Thinking back on it, I kind of did over reacted.

He was stiff and his small body seemed crushed under my grip. Awkwardly, he patted my back. He muttered something about Alfred doing the exact same thing as me. I released him and picked up a black case off the ground. "What is that?" he asked, not recognizing the case.

I smirked. "Ludwig's gun stash." I gave the case a good pat. "I found it while cleaning him room." I admit, that was a lie. I was truthfully searching his room for any evidence that he was a HETA and came upon it while searching his closet. Besides that I've found nothing of use.

He gave a small scowl, saying, "Germany-san will not be happy about that Annie-san."

I skipped around the subject. "Kiku, I was listening to you tell Gilbert about your culture-" In truth, it was more of a debate about which culture was more 'awesome'' "-and I was wondering why you always call me 'Annie-san' and not 'Henson-san'?"

Kiku gave it a moment of thought. "Well, you see here Annie-san-" The chauffeur honked the car horn. He gave a wary glance. "I'll explain it later. Sayounara." I watched him climb into the car, wondering why he avoided the subject like that.

"_Never took him to be the avoiding type,"_ I thought. Shrugging, I marched outside and to the back yard. A few yards off from the house there were a few dummies set up for combat practice. There were rattled with bullets and torn at multiple places, most likely from a sword.

Actually, I can say that it was from a sword, since I was not alone out there. Hitting a door dummy's life away was Gilbert, barely panting even though he was moving faster than I possibly could. "Can I join you?" I asked, kneeling down and opening the case. I whistled at the shine of the Pistole 640 and Gewehr 41. I had to say, these were some nice guns, very recent in production.

The blond looked at me with red eyes. "Ask the awesome me properly," he huffed, taking another slash. The dummy's head came clean off.

Sighing, I recited what the Prussian had taught me the day before. "O Great and Awesome Kingdom of Prussia, may I have the pleasure of using your awesome dummies?" Dear God, that was embarrassing. How is it that I bent to the elder brother's will, but not the younger's?

He nodded, giving me a look of approval. "Keseseses~!" he exclaimed. "That was awesome!"

I scowled and loaded the pistol. "Don't get use to it," I growled, inserting ear plugs into said body part (didn't want my ear drums shattered). Standing, I chose a target and fire a few shots. I was aiming for the heart, but out of five shots, only two hit the target. I frowned; I was more out of practice than I thought.

"Geeze, you suck," Gilbert noted, starting on another dummy.

I wiped the piling snow off my head. "Shut-up."

Twenty-seven bullets later, my aim was back to normal. Satisfied, I put away the gun and took out the heavy fire. The Gewehr was much heavier than I expect. Either that, or I was getting weak. Maybe I should do some push-ups, gain my arm strength back. I bit my lip and loaded the gun. "Hey bruder!" Gilbert called to- who else? -Ludwig.

I turned and saw that he was a little ways off, storming over to us amongst the fluttering snowflakes. His black trench-like coat whipped around him in a rather cool dramatic effect. Oh shit, I was screwed. It would have been smart of me to run away, but I truthfully wasn't in the mood for dashing around Germany in the snow. It would be a lot easier (but a lot less pleasant) to just argue it out with him.

When Ludwig reached me, he was clearly pissed off. His face was drawn and eyebrows were knit together. His ice blue eyes glared me down. My back automatically straightened- I still suspected that he was the one to kill my mother. "What are you doing?" He demanded. The German eyed the gun. This sent him over the edge. "Annie, your contract clearly states that you are not allowed to use guns."

For once, it took me a few second to come up with a snappy comeback. "I'm going to meet this Turkey guys soon, right?" I didn't give him time to reply. "And he threatened to kill both of us. And does the contract not state that I can use weapons for self defense?" I turned from him and aimed the rifle at the dummy's head. "I'm just practicing so that I don't accidently kill someone."

Ludwig was silent, though I can feel his gaze on my back. Trying to act casual, I fired the riffle and blew the head off. "Hand me that." His voice was so sudden, I nearly jumped when he spoke. I handed him the gun. He felt it for a few moments and within the period of one second, he aimed and fire. A nearby dummy's head was shot clean off.

I stood there in shock. How did he do that? I couldn't use a gun that good even if it was attached it to my arm. Ludwig smirked and placed the gun back in its case. "Don't worry, I've been using a gun for well over a hundred years," he said, a slight gloat in his voice. "I'm bound to be better at it than you." He smirked. "Though for someone who only has been using one for the past decade, you're pretty good. You're stance could be better though."

I folded my arms. "Are you trying to compliment or criticize me?" I asked.

"Depends on your views," he said. He closed the case and glared at me. "Now, whose guns are these?" From the tone of his voice, it was plain he knew that it was his. I mean, where else would I get a case of guns? Lovino? Actually, that was very possible by the way he was always cursing his name.

With this in mind, I shrugged. "Yours" I stated simply.

This did not go over well with him. "Where did you find them?" He demanded, standing back onto his feet.

"In your closet," I replied. At that moment, I had the simple urge to just piss Ludwig off. So, I quickly added, "Right next to your porn collection."

Ludwig's face turned a deep scarlet as Gilbert cracked up laughing. "You found my what!"

I nodded. "Yup. It was right next to Gilbert's." Said Prussian ducked to dodge a punch from the other. I smirked seeing a fight break out between the two. Ludwig would say something in German as he threw a jab. Gilbert would give a sly reply and give his own punch. I would love to claim that I made the whole "I found your porn" thing up, but that would be a lie.

Taking the gun case in hand, I told Ludwig that I would put it away for him. I wasn't being generous, more like I wanted an excuse to snoop around his room a bit. When no one objected (they were too busy with their fight to reply), I began my long trot back to the house. The inside was warm and I took off my coat and place it on a hook. The trip to his room was far from eventful. The only interesting thing I heard was Lovino arguing loudly with Elizaveta about him wearing a dress. I would had loved to stay and listened, but espionage was calling.

Ludwig's room could only be described by one word: clean. For extra credit points, I will state a few more: dull, clean, proper, clean, spacious, and did I mention CLEAN? The day before he had told me to clean his chambers and I found not a speck of dust. When I pointed that out to him, he told me that it was filthy and I was just not looking close enough. So once again, I will like to describe his room as clean.

The chamber was rather big and unfurnished. There was a bed, a few dressers, and a love seat. The walls were a cream white, one in particular had a large window to the outside world. Moving past his four poster bed, I opened the closet door and placed the case inside- right next to the box filled with 'naughty books'. I smirked pushed it aside, looking for something discriminating against the German. It revealed another box, labeled 'militärische zeitschrift'.

I didn't know what it meant but the first word 'militärische' looked a lot like 'military'. I quickly checked outside the window and saw that the two brothers were still amidst their argument. Good, that meant I had more time. I opened the box and saw a stack of small notebooks. Curiously, I opened one of them and saw it written in full German. Damn. I scanned over the words and saw 'Italien' written multiple times. That looked a lot like 'Italian'. I put it back in its place and searched for any journal labeled 1927. There were two. I took the books and put the box away.

If my suspicions were correct, then Ludwig would have written an entry in the August of 1927 about the murder of an Italian woman. The only problem would be to translate it. I was quite positive that I could find a German-English dictionary somewhere in this bloody house.

Trying to be quiet, I slipped out of the room and closed the door softly. That went a lot better that I thought it would. I expected someone to come in and-

"Annie! Hát itt vagy!" Of course, right when I thought i was safe. . . I turned and hid the books behind my back. I tried (and failed terribly) to act natural as I bid Elizaveta good morning. "Where have you been?" she asked, looking a bit distressed. "Austria wants to start your etiquette lessons now."

I gave a sigh of relief. "O-of course," I said. "Let me just change into clean pants." In truth, my pants were fine; I just needed the chance to hide the journals somewhere safe.

Elizaveta eyed my pants oddly, trying to see if there were any stains. ". . . Alright," she said hesitantly. I didn't wait for her to take back her statement. I ran down the hall and into my room.

I leaned against the door and groaned. _"Now I have to change my pants,"_ I thought with a groan. But first I needed to hide the journals. In a household of four men and two girls, the best place to hide stuff would be in the underwear drawer. Actually scratch that-that's the worst place considering Gilbert to be a pervert. The next best place would be under the mattress. Quickly, I shoved the two books under there.

Now all I had to do was put on a new pair of- "What the hell!" I yelled. I had opened m closet to find dresses on all of my hangers. Where were my lovely pairs of pants?

There was a knock on my door. "Are you alright?" Elizaveta called, her voice filled with humor. "It sounds as though something is wrong."

"_She did this,"_ I realized. "I'm not going to let her know of my distressed. I cleared my throat and replied, "Nothing, just give me one more minute." I tore off my clothes and pulled a long sleeve baby blue dress over my head. It was modest, the skirt coming down to my knees (revealing my amazing black boots) and the neckline coming high up my chest (not that I had anything to show off).

When I stepped outside, I was met with immediate approval by the Hungarian. Haha, I'm just kidding. She just smirked and started to drag me down the hall to the sitting room. "Austria!" She called. "Nézd meg! Ő visel ruhát!" Dear Santa, for Christmas I would like the uncanny ability to understand Hungarian.

Roderich for once was not sitting at the piano. The two ex-lovers had set-up a fine wood table and chairs. On the table was Ludwig's fine china and silverware. Lovino was sitting on the nearby couch, scowling as he sported an unbutton black blazer over a loose white shirt. Woman's intuition told me that the Italian was also stuck in the Austrian's lessons.

"Hallo Annabel," Roderich greeted. He motioned to the seat across from him. "Please take a seat." He must have had an ulterior motive. I tried to take a seat nimbly, but it didn't meet his satisfaction. "Stand up," he demanded. I did. "And spin slowly."

It felt as though I was being inspected by a plump match maker. He gazed over me, shaking his head more than he nodded it. "This will be hard," he noted.

I scowled. "That was rude." I replied.

Roderich clapped his hands and stood, having finished with his assessment. "Alright, your posture is decent, though you could use some work. Those boots needs to go badly and I want you wearing dresses and flats all the way until the party is long over." He held a hand up as I opened my mouth to object. I closed it. "We need to find some way for you to charm them- do you know any instruments? Can you sing?"

I shook my head. The country sighed. "Figures. Well dancing would have to make do." He went to the piano and motioned for Lovino to stand. "Romano," he said. "Be Annabel's partner."

Said man jumped onto his feet. "No way in hell!" he declared. "I don't dance!"

Elizaveta pushed him towards me, saying, "If you couldn't dance then you would not be able to- how do you say it?"

Roderich saw where she was going faster than I did. "I believe that the word you are looking for is 'pick-up.'"

She nodded. "How else could you pick-up so many ladies?" I had to admit, she had a very solid point, though I wondered why he would be such a playboy if he already had a boyfriend.

He sighed, giving into defeat. Roughly, he grabbed my hand and pulled my close to him. "She better not fucking step on my feet."

The light notes of the piano started and Lovino lead me in a dance. 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3. . ."Ow!" he exclaimed as my foot squashed his. Even as he spoke he still led me in a waltz. "Don't put your feet in my space."

"Sorry," I muttered, looking down to make sure I didn't. Even though I was full of grace in a fist fight (or verbal argument), my two left feet became apparent in the arts. (Read: I can't dance).

Lovino took a hand off my waist and used it to tip my face upwards. "Don't look down," he ordered, his eyes hard and glaring. I gulped and complied. If he was always in such a pissed-off mood, how was he ever able to score any girl? The dance continued on. Every so often, I was corrected with a "don't look down" or a "Let me lead". It was exhausting and I didn't understand why I was being forced to do this; the whole lesson would be effaced from my memory by tomorrow.

This is going to suck.

* * *

><p><strong>December 11, 1941<strong>

**Location Unknown**

He placed the heavy box on the table, letting the bang echo across the empty house for a few seconds. The man was tall and olive skinned, looking delighted when he saw who the return address on the package: From a Michelle Bonnefoy to a Sadiq Adnan.

Sadiq pulled out his knife and opened the box. Beneath the bubble wrap was a small wood box. He scratched his stubbed chin when he saw a small note on the lid. "Call me when you get it" it read. He sighed and went to the phone, dialing a number he knew by heart.

"Bonjour?" A female voice asked after the third ring.

"Seychelles," Sadiq greeted. "How are you?"

The country on the other end grew excited. "Turkey!" she exclaimed. "Did you receive my package?"

"Evet." He shook the package. "What is so important in this?"

'It's the poison you ordered!" Seychelles replied. If the country had been in the same room as her, he would have known that she was jumping up and down excitedly. "It took a little string-pulling, but Madagascar gave me some from one of his poisonous toads."

Sadiq opened the box and found a small vile of clear liquid. "Thank you Seychelles." He grinned as he saw his plan fall into place.

The girl ignored his compliment and continued talking excessively. "I had to persuade Madagascar to give it to me but since we're both Islands we have a special connection-"

"_Or maybe because you once slept with him"_ Turkey thought rationally.

"-And African ones at that. But the good old Bonnefoy charm worked and I was able to get it! He said that a single drop can kill a man in under five minutes so best be careful!"

He scowled. Did she think he was an idiot? Seychelles was now starting on another topic on how Australia couldn't beat Madagascar's poisons. He knew that she was only saying that because Australia wouldn't supply her with any. The country, growing tire of her obnoxious voice, spoke over her, "Well thank you Seychelles, talk to you later."

He slammed the phone harder than he should had, causing the metal to bend a bit. It didn't matter though; he was already wrapped up in his own plans. _"Greece would not see this one coming,"_ he thought, the tips of him mouth curling in a strange grin.

This was going to be a very interesting Christmas.

* * *

><p><strong>December 11, 1941<strong>

**Hungary's Room**

"Don't pull your gut in," Elizaveta ordered, suffocating my sides with a tape measure. After nearly breaking Lovino's toes, Roderich had found my dancing abilities passable and told his ex-wife to take measurements for a formal outfit.

"It'll be a dress of course," he said when I suggested I wear a suit.

I scowled and released my held breath. "Stop commenting on my figure," I ordered, growing tired on her remakes on my virtually strait sides.

"Of course, of course." She moved her tape measure to my hips. The girl's room was painted the plain white color of the rest of the house, but it felt as though it was full of color. Antiques from her country littered the walls and dresser tops. The most prominent one was a Red, White and Green Hungarian flag laid out on the four poster bed. I fidgeted and did my best to hold still.

I was anxious, wanting to translate the strange journals I had found in Ludwig's closet. Moments like these, I wish I was fluent in German. '"Is something wrong Annie?" Elizaveta asked her green eyes full of concern.

Wait, this could actually work for me. I asked, "Elizaveta, do you have a German-English dictionary?"

She nodded. "I borrowed one from Prussia, why?"

I am an expert in fabricating lies, so this one was easy. "I want to learn a bit of German." Actually, that really wasn't a lie; I did want to know a bit of German.

The girl whipped her tape measure back into a roll and stood. From one of her shelves, she pulled a thick, hard cover book. Elizaveta placed the book in my hands. "Keep it as long as you need."

"I thought this was Gilbert's-"

She smirked. "He gave it to me two decades ago. I think he forgot he even had one of these."

I gave her a small hug. "You're too nice," I said.

"I know." Well, I guess she's not modest. As much as I would have loved to get started right away on the translations, I had a supper to make. I acted casual around the house until I retied to my room, claiming that all of the dancing had worn me out.

After the first ten minutes, I found it annoying having to flip the pages of the thick book back and forth, but I had to bear it through. If I could find out anything about my mother's death, anything at all, this would be worth it.

It wasn't until three freaking o'clock in the freaking morning, did I finished with the August entries in the journals. I was only concerned with the month of August during 1927, so what was the point of translating the whole journal?

All that I needed to do was refine the screwed up grammar patterns the German language has. It was kind of like translating a document from Italian to English: the raw translation can take a phrase that means "My beautiful Italy" and turn it into "Beautiful Italy of me." (And by Italy, I mean the country, not Feli. Not that I'm saying he's not cute or anything it just that. . . Just shut-up!)

I guess that I should feel guilty about reading Ludwig's journal, but hey, when has my conscience ever stopped me from doing anything?

Feeling a bit impatient, I started reading from the day before the murder. I fixed the grammar in my head as I went along. It read:

_Dear Journal, _

_Today while making clocks for France, Italy came to annoy me. I tried to get him to go away, but he would not listen. So I tied him up and Mein Gott! I can't get the image of him in bondage out of my head-_

Holy shit! I was not expecting that! From what I saw of Ludwig's porn collection, I knew he was into all of that sexy torture stuff, but still! That was gross! I skipped to the next entry: August 19, 1927- the day my mother died.

_Dear Journal,_

_Today I had to drive Italy back to Romano's house. However, Italy purposely gave me the wrong directions and took me to a small fishing community a few miles away from a city called Heraclea. After turning around and dropping him off at Romano's house, which included bearing all of his grief, I've decided that I should return to the village and try some of the bars there. I believe that I deserve a drink. _

The entry ended there. My heart was pounding against my chest. My home town was a fishing community, also a few miles away from Heraclea. I read the next passage.

_Dear Journal, _

_When I woke up today, I found myself at a foreign hotel. Apparently, I had gone drinking and took a girl to bed with me last night. I must have had too many beers since I cannot remember it. Damn. I also drove back to Germany, just to find Prussia had taken refuge in my house. Again. _

I didn't need to read more. That was oddly convenient- he was possibly at my home town at the time of the murder, yet he has no recollection of the night it happened. _"It didn't matter,"_ I thought. _"I know he's guilty."_

How? I couldn't say. I could just feel it.

* * *

><p><strong>December 11, 1941<strong>

**Eariler that Day**

Japan let out a huff of displeased air. Normally, this would be called a groan, but it was so silent that the driver of the black car he was in didn't even notice. "I'm sorry Herr," the driver apologized, seeing the traffic back up amongst the crowded streets of Berlin. Of course, he was speaking very fluent German, but to Japan, it was in his native tongue of Japanese. "It's the snow. It'll probably take us an hour to reach the military base now."

The country brushed it away and leaned back a little in his seat. He really must be getting back to his boss; he didn't want him to do anything too hurtful to America-san. "I understand," Japan replied, looking out the car window.

It was silent as he watched the snow fall steadily from the sky. In his homeland, there is a spirit called Yuki Onna. Legends say that she is beautiful; her skin beautifully pale and her hair dark as the night sky. Although her coming would represent beauty of white snow in the winter days, she was malicious by freezing people to death and leading them aside from their paths like a will-o-wisp.

Japan knew that at some point of time he knew this woman, but he can't recall it. _"It's like the time Britain-san was at my house," _he mused. _"He claimed to had seen some spirits at my hot spr-" _

"Herr Honda, are you okay?" Japan glanced at his chauffeur. The German's blue eyes peering at him from the rear view mirror.

The Asian sighed. "Hai, I was just thinking- What were you saying again?"

"I was saying that it's getting quiet boring just sitting here and watching the cars in front of me do nothing." Japan was amazed how outspoken his driver was. Did he know he was driving an important military official from Japan?

He crossed his legs. This man was interesting. It wouldn't hurt to talk to him at all. "Why don't we talk for a bit," he suggested.

The driver smiled. "Alright Herr," he agreed. Japan noticed how loud he was- almost as loud as Alfred. "You choose the subject."

The country looked about until he saw a picture on the dashboard. It was of a dark haired woman holding a young toddler of equal hair color with crashing waves foaming in the background. "Who are they?" he asked, pointing to the paper.

The driver's eyes grew stern for a second, but his voice never quivered. "It's my own flesh and blood," he replied. He took a hand off the steering wheel and passed the picture to the superior man. "The beauty is my mother and the little girl in my kid sister."

"_That is strange."_ Japan rubbed a finger over the younger girl's hair color. _"How could their hair be so dark yet his can be so light?"_ He was about to hand the picture back when he noticed how dark his driver's out stretch hand was. "You're not German," he said at last, keeping the picture in his grasp.

The driver looked shock for a moment before sighing. "Do you mind if I light myself a smoke?" he asked, hand returning to his side. Japan shook his head and watched his driver pull out a cigarette. "So does this mean you'll turn me into the Gestopo?"

Japan shook his head. "I see no reason why I should. But I am curious to who you are."

The driver took a long drag, thinking it over for a bit. "I'm British," he said at last. "Though I don't work for theirs or any government right now. I just got stuck here and figured that the only way I'll make it through this is if I was German."

"So you stole someone's identity?"

"Ja." He ran a hand through his hair. "Bleached my hair and everything."

Japan regarded this for a second as the car lunged forward a few yards, just to come to a stop again. He asked, "What is your real name?"

The driver raised an eyebrow. "David Rossi." He weighed the facts, before adding, 'Rossi is my mother's maiden name. My real surname is too British for my taste."

Japan snickered- the closest he'll ever be to a laugh. "I apologize Rossi-san," he said after David asked him what was so funny. "I just know someone with a similar attitude as you."

David laughed. "Better not be my sister. The Kid's about twenty three right now yet she acts like a fifteen year-old."

Japan wanted to ask him more about this sister, but knew that his driver was avoiding the subject. He let it be and changed the topic to the still falling snow. There was something familiar about that name. David Rossi. Where has he heard that before? _"My old age is catching up to me." _Japan thought wistfully.

It wasn't until David had dropped Japan off at the military base did the driver sigh, thinking about the day's events.

He knew what he saw. When he had followed orders to pick up a Kiku Honda from Commander Ludwig's residence, he saw a girl standing at the door.

He leaned back in his seat and took a long drag. 'So Kid," he said to no one in particular. "What are you doing with the HETAs?"

* * *

><p><strong>Police Officer<strong>: We heard there was a shooting.

**SEK**: *points to **MW*** she did it.

**MW**: Wait! Before you arrest me, can I give a proper AN?

**Police Officer**: Fine.

**MW**: Well guys, I would call this a filler chapter, but there was some plot set u for the next few chapters. And what shall those chapters be about? The Christmas Party.

**SEK**: Hey, who is that David Rossi?

**MW**: Seriously? I think I made it pretty obvious, but if you didn't get it, it'll be revealed in one or two chapters.(Or you can just look back at the first chapter and figure it out)

**Police Officer**: Time's up. *handcuffs MW*

**MW**: Wait, don't I get a bail?

**Police Officer**: Bails are paid in the form of reviews.

**SEK**: *Pulls out megaphone* QUICK PEOPLE! REVIEW SO THAT WE CAN BAIL **MW** OUT! IF SHE DOESN'T, THEN SHE CAN'T WRITE AND I'LL HAVE NOTHING TO PROOFREAD!

**Fun Facts and Translations**

'militärische zeitschrift' Military Journal. German.

'Italien' Italy. German.

"Hát itt vagy!" There you are! Hungarian.

"Nézd meg! Ő visel ruhát!" Look! She's wearing a dress! Hungarian.

"inspected by a plump match maker" I've been watching too much Mulan.

"Michelle Bonnefoy" The human name I gave Seychelles. I decided to use Michelle since in one fanfic I saw, they said that her nickname was "Chelles" and I thought that was cool. Bonnefoy is from France's human name, since she was once his colonyand he did raise her.

"Evet" Yes. Turkish.

"Heraclea" An Italian city at the tip of the boot.

"Bleached my hair and everything." Yes people, hair bleach was around during the 1940s (apparently, it was invented back during the times of the Romans).

**Next Chapter: **The 1st part of the Christmas party starts and Annie meets a bunch of very strange people.

**R*E*V*I*E*W*~*!**


	10. FinlandClause Is Coming to Town!

*****VISITING HOURS AT THE PRISON MW IS AT*****

**SEK**: So officer, how is my dear MidnasWolf doing?

**Prison Gaurd**: She's been on her best behavior, though I think she's gone a little crazy.

**SEK**: What do you mean?

*comes up to **MW**'s cell*

**Prison Gaurd:** You'll see.

**MW**: *from inside the cell* _I pick all my skirts to be a little too sexy. Just like all of my thoughts they always get a bit naughty. When I'm out with my girls I always play a bit bitchy. Can't change the way I am sexy naughty bitchy me~!_

**SEK**: Oh, don't worry, she does that all the time, though usually it's Disney songs. . .hi **MW**!

**MW**: Mommy~! *glomps* How's the bail coming?

**SEK**: Great! We just need a few more and then your free to go until the trial. What's that?

**MW**: *picks up roll of toilet paper* This is the new chapter.

**SEK**: You wrote it on that?

**MW**: Yup! With a sharpie. And to the people who just started reading this like last chapter, I uploaded a fixed version of Chapter 5's grammar and accidentally put up the wrong chapter. No one told me of this, so it really was an insignificant chapter, but if you like Evil Russia, than you'll enjoy it.

**SEK**: Please review so that we can get this bail over with.

**Chapter Summary**: Part One of the Chirstmas Party

**Warnings**: Language, Blood, References to Playboy countries

**Disclaimer**: Even in prison, I do not own Hetalia.

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 10~<strong>

**Finland-Clause is Coming to Town!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 1941<strong>

**Off the Coast of Finland**

Today would not be a preferable day to go sailing. The sea was rough and broken ice littered the water. The sky was a dark gray, granting the world a shower of fluttering snow flakes. If I was on the _Arsenius_, then I would be coming short of suicide. But the facts were I was not the _Arsenius_, but _the H. C. Anderson_, a Danish military boat.

We (as in Ludwig, Gilbert, Lovino, Roderich, Elizaveta, and I) were being granted passage across the Baltic Sea to Finland by a man named Matthias Denson. And by man, I mean country. And by country, I mean Denmark. The funny thing was that I haven't even met the man.

Yesterday, upon boarding the ship, a tall blond was there to meet us. His hair came down to his chin and his large green eyes seemed almost careless. "Like Germay!" He greeted. The language was foreign, but smooth and nice to the ear. "You're like tottaly here!"

"Ja, ja" Ludwig said, sounding a bit irritated. That was understandable, the stranger's vocabulary was annoying. "Where is Denmark?"

He gave a shrug. "He like tottaly drank a barrel of berr like five minutes ago," he replied. "Denmark like said to like leave once we all got here."

After we set sail, I asked Elizaveta who this guy was. "He's Poland," she informed. "His human name is Feliks Łukasiewicz."

Of course, every new person I meet is going to be a country. "Does he speak like that on purpose?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No, but trust me, I prefer his vocabulary over Lovino's."

Even now as the Finnish coast comes closer to view, I had to admit she was right. _"Perhaps he's like Lovi,"_ I figured. "Saying _like is as complusive to him as swearing is to Lovino."_ I shivered and rubbed my arms. I was wearing two jackets and yet I was still freezing! If I was in Italy right now, I could be getting a tan on one of the many beaches. But no, I was on a ship in the general Scandinavia area.

Something poked my cheek. I glanced sideways and saw a tall man pointing his finger at my face, going in for another poke. He had to kneel to be at equal level with me. His blue eyes observed me curiously as I made no move to stop him. He poked me a few more times. "Er du menneskelige?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

It reminded me so much like a confused dog. It was rather comical, though I had to admit that I did the same. "Excuse me?" I asked, turning slightly so that I was facing him fully. I noticed how wild his blond hair was. It stuck out at random from underneath a small black hat. Much like a walking stick, supporting his opposite side was a huge ax. Dear God, as if that wasn't scary.

The man realized what language I was speaking. He verified, "English right?" I nodded. He took this into consideration, before asking, "You're the human right?" His finger went in for another poke.

I raised a hand and met it haft way. The poking was becoming annoying quick. "Yes." It was best to start making my good impressions on people. I didn't want this skinny giant to try to kill me with that ax. "My name is An-"

I didn't get a chance to finish, as the man suddenly jumped to his feet. He grabbed me by my shoulders and lifted me high into the air. "Ah, cool!" he yelled, turning me over to examine me. "You're so small! And you look so much like those Italian brothers! But I can sense Britain's blood in you!" His voice gained excitement and volume with each discovery. I tried to ask him to put me down, but he either ignored me or was speaking too loud to hear. "And this jacket makes you look so fat! How many are you wearing?" He unzipped my jackets and tore it off. "Only two? I figure you'll be wearing more! Are you going to cuss me out like Romano?"

The question was sudden, making the world go from an over bearing loud to a deafening quiet. I took his silence as an opportunity to yell, "Put me down!" And no, I was not terrified of this strange country started crying in fear. The tears were obviously from the cold.

The man just laughed. "Why should I?" he asked. "You should feel lucky to be picked-up by the King of Northern Europe."

This sounded preposterous. "What?"

He placed me on the ground. My relief was short lived as he went for his ax, turning it in large circles about him in a fancy manner before laying it across his shoulders. "That's right! I am Denmark."

I gave him a look of disbelief. All of that big-guy-show-off display and he ends up being a puny country like Denmark? And how can he be so tall? Denmark smiled down at me in his prideful way, unaware of my criticisms. He spoke again. "However-" The country flipped the ax in the air, caught it, and pointed the tip at me neck. I lifted my hands up in the universal sign of 'don't hurt me' "-Since you are human, you may call me Matthias Denson."

"Denmark!" A familiar voice called. From below deck, Gilbert's head of blond hair popped up. He didn't blink when he saw my life being threaten. "Where's your beer?" he demanded. "The awesome me is thirsty."

Mathis pointed his ax at the Prussian. His blue eyes grew deadly as he glared him down. "Who said you can have my beer?" he demanded.

Gilbert didn't even blink. "The awesome me did. Now show me where it is." Again, the other refused. He sighed and walked completely on deck, drawing his sword as he came. His dark red eyes turned deadly as his yellow bird that usually flew around his head landed on in his hair. "Want to reconsider that Schönling?"

"Smuk dreng?" Mathis lunged at Gilbert, slashing at him with precision. "Siger den berusede hore kæreste!" In his fit of rage, he reverted back to his native tongue.

This was obviously getting too violent for me. As much as I would love to join in on the brawl, their weapons were slashing away with no concern for their own lives. I walked around them and climbed the stairs below deck. Lovino was in the hallway, making his way up to the deck. "What the hell are they doing?" he asked, eyebrows knitting together in anger. It seemed as though even his single defiant curl was bobbing in anger.

"They're fighting about beer," I informed. "It's getting really violent up there." He pushed right beside me and continued his journey. "What are you doing?" I demanded, grabbing his arm.

He shot me an angered look and yelled, "We're going to fucking dock soon, and they can't be hacking their damn arms off."

"You're an idiot," I replied, my voice also gaining volume. "What are you going to fight them off with?"

Lovino reached into his pockets and pulled out two pistols. I jumped back, releasing his arm. The Italian smirked, saying, "Never underestimate the Italian mafia Annie." I had to admit, he had a point. I didn't fight him again as he went into deck, firing two bullets into the air as he went.

Was it just me, or do these nations just love violence?

The ship docked at the port and we all shuffled off. Our luggage was light, containing only necessaries and party outfits. We were only staying for two days; leaving back for Germany on the twenty-seventh. There was a black military car waiting for us. We even had a chauffeur, some blue-eyed blond signature to the Scandinavian countries.

However, Roderich promptly kicked him out of the car, declaring that he would drive. "You have no sense of direction," Ludwig snapped, placing the cases in the trunk.

Feliks lazily added something in Polish as Elizaveta and Lovino agreed. He brushed it away, "No worries, we'll get there in time."  
>Matthias glanced at his clock. "It's mid day right now. Any bets on our arrival time?"<br>I snickered. "Are you guys serious?" I asked. "He can't be that bad."  
>Everyone but Roderich gave me a funny look before piling into the car. Seriously, he couldn't be that bad at driving.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>December 24, 1941<strong>

**Finnish Countryside**

"Let me drive," Ludwig said for the hundredth time.

Roderich shook his head, giving his usual reply of "No, I'm sure we're nearly there." I shifted in my seat, trying to gain some space. It was rather a tight fit, having to sit between Lovino and Gilbert. The worst part is that the sun had already set hours ago and the surrounding world was dark, save for the occasional faint light from a country cottage. I now understand what Matthias meant when he asked for bets. So far, Feliks, Lovino, and Gilbert were still in the running. Elizaveta lost about five minutes ago when Ludwig's pocket watch declared the time to be ten o'clock.

The Hungarian pointed to a faint light in the distance. "Why don't we ask for directions?" she suggested hopefully.

Roderich and Ludwig both gave a huff. "No." What is up with men and never asking for directions? The worst possible thing that could happen is the person also has no idea where they are going as well, which is very unlikely.

She groaned and pointed out the fact that even if Ludwig took over the driving, he wouldn't know where to go either; since we were still lost.

"We're not lost," Roderich snapped. "This is a shortcut."

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Like hell it is," he snapped.

Feliks leaned back in his seat, giving his blond locks a feminine flick. "Like Denmark," he said, using his hands play out his message. "Do you, like, totatly know where we are going?" Is it just me, or is valley girl voice getting really annoying?

Matthias shrugged. "I know we're close," he replied. "I can sense Russia." We all gave a mental shiver. I understood what he meant. When I was at the Allies' base, I was always able to tell where Russia was. It must be from his evil aura that is signature to all Soviets.

We drove in silence for a few minutes, taking another right hand turn. It was occurring to me that we had made a lot of right hand turns lately. . . "Let me drive," Ludwig demanded.

Finally, Roderich banged his hands on the steering wheel. "Fine!" He exclaimed, already opening the car door. "You drive." Elizaveta, Matthias, and I gave him a round of applause, one usually reserved for when he plays some form of Mozart.

However, Gilbert, Lovino, and Feliks all jumped out of the car as well. "The awesome me needs air!" Gilbert yelled, stretching out his stiff legs. Matthias opened the door on his side and climbed out, offering a hand for us ladies. Who knew the Danish man was such a gentleman?

The blond glanced at the world around us as I took his hand and stepped carefully onto the icy road. "This area is familiar," he said, gazing out to the hill where another cottage made a beacon of light.

I shrugged. "Maybe you've been here before," I suggested. Hey, it was possible! But very unlikely. It was dark outside and I could barely see ten feet in front of me.  
>Matthias took my words into consideration. "Yeah," he said hesitantly. "I think I have been here before. I was chasing after Norway when. . ." He trailed off. Elizaveta stepped out of the car.<br>She waved a hand in front of his face. "Are you alright?" she asked, voice full of concern.

The next actions were so quick that I barely saw a blur as he ran over to Ludwig and turned him towards the light. "That's it!" he exclaimed happily, pointing in its general direction. "That's Finland's house! I knew this area looked familiar!"

Ludwig gave him a funny look. "Are you sure?" He asked in disbelief.

Matthias nodded and climbed into the driver's seat. "Let's get going!" He yelled. I dashed back into the car, everyone else quick at my heels. Gilbert had barely pulled his leg in when Matthias floored the car. The force pushed me against my seat painfully.

The drive was quick. Seriously, a drive that took us hours upon hours with Roderich was only three minutes with the Danish man. _"That's just sad,"_ I thought when we pulled up to a large mansion.

It reminded me of a fairy-tale castle. The walls were illuminated with outdoor lighting and a case of marble stairs lead up to a grand door. The car engine died and Matthias and Gilbert ran up the steps. They seemed very excited, but had the decency to knock. The rest of us shuffled out and picked up our luggage.

My nerves were wrecked. I was just about to meet some of the most powerful people in the world. The only thing I had left to do was change into a flattering party dress. What if they didn't like me? What if I screw it up? Why does it sound like I'm talking about meeting my future mother-in-law?

The door opened and a maid peeked her head outside. Matthias said something to her and she invited us in. It was in Finish so I had no idea what she said exactly. Compared to the outside world, the mansion was heaven. It was warm with red velvet carpets.

Right at the foyer was a fireplace and coat rack. It led off down two hallways, though another set of grand walnut doors were before us. "That leads to the ballroom," Elizaveta whispered, seeing my awed gaze. It was hard to hear her over the sound of classical music drifting in from behind the door. "That's where the party is."

As if on cue, the doors opened slightly and in walked two men. They were both blond, but one was freakishly huge while the other was just a few inches taller than me. They both had the Scandinavian signature blue eyes, though Mr. Gigaintor wore rectangular glasses. The Shrimp gave us a pleasant smile and came over to greet us. "Hyvää joulua!" he cried, giving Matthias a hug.

Matthias said something back to him before Ludwig came in with the English. "Fröhliche Weihnachten," he greeted. "How are you Finland?" Oh, so the Shrimp was Finland. I straighten my back and drew a soft smile on my face. Time to start impressing.

"Germany!" Finland gave him a short hug. "How are you? Is your boss treating you well?"

The German brushed it away. "Fine, fine." Ludwig shot me a look and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Finland. This is-" He paused when Mr. Gigaintor came up to Finland and placed a hand around Finland's waist- wait, waist? Oh don't tell me. . .

"Y're l'te," he grunted, voice rather slurred. It was hard to understand him. "M' wife 'nd I w're w'rried." Of course! Why can't I meet a partly straight guy who isn't either married or a pervert?

Finland sighed. "I'm not your wife," he hissed.

Ludwig seemed unphase by this random challenge. "I'm sorry Sweden. It's just that-"

"The Damn Potato Bastard let the Damn Aristocrat drive." Who else but Lovino said. Gilbert gave a 'right on' and high-five the Italian. Although the two were always arguing, they sometimes get along pretty well.

Sweden's facial expression didn't change (he's a lot like Kiku in that way). "Th't w's st'pid of ye," he replied. His blue eyes suddenly landed on me. "Wh' 's she?"

Ludwig sighed and was about to tell when Roderich stepped in. The brunette placed his hand on my other shoulder, saying, "Sweden. Finland. This is Annabel Milano Henson, the human who has been keeping company with us." Well, at least he didn't call me 'the maid' like Kiku did.

I smiled and gave a small curtsy. "It's a pleasure to meet you," I said. My voice was distant and not my own. The girl who was speaking was a polite British lady, not the sarcastic mix blood that we all know and love.

Finland smiled and offered me a hand. "I'm Tino Väinämöinen, you're host." He motioned to Sweden. "And this is my-" He paused and looked up at Sweden and looked away red faced and embarased. "-husband, Berwald Oxenstierna."

Berwald grunted, "H'w d' ye do." As I shook his hand, Elizaveta swooped in and gave me a break.

"It's nice to see you two again," she said. "I take you are both doing well?"

Tino nodded and gave her a hug. "Hungary!" he cooed. "You're English is getting better!"

She laughed and patted his back. "I'm glad you think so." The girl was released from his grasp, giving her an opportunity to motion to our luggage. "Berwald. Do you think that we can be shown to our chambers so that we can change into some better clothes?"

He nodded and motioned for us to follow him down the hall. "And by the way!" Ludwig and I turned to see Tino have a mischievous look on his face. "Since you're late, you have to make a grand entrance." What! I have to make a statement right off the bat?

Feliks was not phrased by this at all. "I'm like okay with that. I can like totally make my entrance now."

Lovino rolled his eyes and motioned to the trench coat the blond was wearing. "In that?"

The next part was rather random. The Polish man ripped off his coat to reveal a sparkling pink dress. He waved us goodbye and opened the door. "Like later." The door closed before I could see the results of his sudden arrival, but I could hear the whooping and shouting of the nations inside.

"_This is bad,"_ I thought, feeling the dread come over me. I knew that I was going to be the center of attention, but I was hoping just to start out mingling quietly in the crowd. Ludwig groaned and said something in German to Tino before ushering me along. We went up two flights of stairs until Berwald opened a door to a large sitting room.

There was a fireplace already ablaze and two doors at opposite sides of the room. "That one there leads to the chamber for Hungary and Miss Henson," he said, motioning to one of them. "Everyone else gets the one to the right." He turned suddenly and looked down at Lovino. "Romano."

The Italian jumped a bit, but covered his fright with an angered, "What the hell do you want?"

"You, Italy, and Spain have a room together down the hall."

Matthias looked at Tino hopefully. "Do I have a room with Norway?" he asked. Please tell me Norway is a girl. If Norway is a guy, then I would probably faint of shock.

Berwald nodded. "Y's. L't me sh'w it t' you." Watching them leave, Elizaveta grabbed my arm and dragged me into our room. She was excited, going on about how pretty I look in the dress she chose. I was practically ripped out of my clothing and forced into the outfit.

It's not as though I didn't want to wear the dress, it's just that she didn't give me a chance to attempt to put it on myself. My short hair was tucked underneath a wig of brown hair that barely brushed my shoulders. The Hungarian applied layers of rouge and eyeliner until she was certain that my 'best features' were shown off to the fullest effect.

"Can I look now?" I asked when she declared that I was perfect. Elizaveta had covered the room's mirror with a blanket and refused to let me look into it.

The girl nodded. "Sure, but can you use the outside one?" She asked, starting to pull off her casual dress. "I need to get ready myself." She must have had a phobia of looking in mirrors when dressing. I didn't question her, but just agreed and left the room.

When I re-entered the sitting room, I saw that Ludwig already dressed. He wore a simple black suit, though as dashing as he looked, a scowl covered most of his face. He didn't say anything, but his scowl grew deeper. Did I look bad? Actually, quite the opposite. When I looked in the mirror, the girl before me was beautiful. The dress was long and yellow with black accents. The yellow created a sharp contrast to my olive skin as the black went side by side with my dark wig. It even looked nice with my Iron Cross.

"I look good," I said aloud, clearly impressed.

Just as the door opened to reveal a formally dressed Roderich and Gilbert; Ludwig gave a scoff. "Of course you do," he said.

Gilbert patted his blond head of hair. "That's not awesome West," he said sternly (never thought I'll see a stern Gilbert). "Just because you are jealous of her looks-"

"Why would I be jealous of a girl's looks?" Ludwig asked.

Roderich smacked both of them behind the head. "Be quiet now," he scolded. "It's Christmas and we should be happy, not arguing." We all had to admit- the Austrian was right. It's Christmas time! We should be happy! Though I thought they didn't believe in God, so therefore, didn't celebrate Christmas.

Ludwig sighed and looked at me again. His blue eyes were softer. "You look nice," he said, trying for a compliment. "Hungary did a good job."

"You really think so?" I turned and saw the speaker, Elizaveta obviously, enter the room. She wore a floor length green dress that dazzled in the fireplace's light. Her hair was done up at the top of her head and her face showed no sign of make-up. She didn't need it either; she could make rags look beautiful.  
>Roderich did the funniest thing: he blushed, freaking blushed! "Um you look nice Hungary," he said nervously, looking away slightly. Aw, how cute.<br>Elizaveta smiled and gracefully walked up to him. "Thank you Austria." She kissed him on the cheek. I sighed and gave a 'aw', just to receive a giggle from her and a head smack from Ludwig.  
>After making sure we were all put together, we joined Lovino and Matthias (both wearing suits that were loose, yet rather fancy) in the hallway. Berwald had waited there for us and he ushered us back down the hall. I noticed that Elizaveta and Roderich were arm in arm like an old married couple. It kept my mind off of my growing anxiety.<em>"How can someone love someone else for such a long time?" <em>I wondered.

Before long, we were back in front of the large doors to the ball room. Tino was also there, smiling broadly . . . now wearing an Old Saint Nicholas suit. Ludwig nudged my shoulder and whispered, "Don't mind that. It'll be explained later." Okay, can I get a weird?

Tino clasped his hands together. "Ready to make your grand entrances?" he asked happily. I heard Gilbert and Lovino groan.

Ludwig nodded. "Ready." Tino opened the large doors and motioned for us to stand to the side, out of view. I didn't understand why, but I saw no reason to object. Both he and Berwald stepped out onto another stair case leading downward and called for every one's attention. It wasn't until Berwald grunted a "sh't-up" did the room hush. Scary.

"Countries, we have some late arrivals," Tino proclaimed. He reminded me of that little servant guy they had at medieval balls, calling out the names of the royalty as they ascended the large stair case. It's funny because that was what we were about to do. "I would like to first introduce Austria and Hungary."

It was then I realized that we were going down in doubles. I looked around me and saw that Ludwig and Gilbert were standing next to each other. The same was with Matthias and Lovino. I tapped Ludwig's shoulder. "Am I going down alone?" I whispered, hoping no one would notice the panic in my voice.

He nodded. I asked him why. "We can't escort you," he replied. "If we do, then they would just assume that there is a relationship between us." That made sense and I was grateful that he thought this through. Even so, I was bloody afraid that my legs were going to collapse.

The voices from the ballroom drifted to my ears. There were voices whooping at the couple as others shouted sarcastic comments. Oh God, now I know why Gilbert and Lovino groaned. This was a form of punishment. It took all of my willpower not to wipe my sweating palms against my dress.

Tino announced Ludwig and Gilbert. The elder brother lifted his hands up in the air and proclaimed that the 'awesome me is here'! There was laughs and applause, though it faded away when Ludwig came within their clear view. It was silent, except for one person yelling something in a foreign language. I knew what it meant- they were upset about the war he created. Poor guy. He didn't even have a choice to be part of this war- Not that I felt sorry for him! I mean, he did kill my mother.

Matthias and Lovino's entrance was next. I guess it was better than Ludwig's since there was applause and happy noises. I heard Antonio run up the stairs, calling for his Romano. As said Italian objected, Matthias called out for Norway and by the sound of it, ran down the stairs and tackled the country to the ground. Norway yelled at him to stop, his male voice confirming my dread of Matthias also being curved.

Tino smiled and beckoned for me to come over. "And last but not least, Annabel Milano Henson!" I gulped and stepped out into view. The crowd hushed. The ballroom before me was spacious and filled with people of all races and genders. Along the wall ahead of me were windows reaching up two stories. To the left was a buffet table while to the right was a space for dancing and couches for socializing. At each corner of the room was a Christmas tree, decorated with something from each culture.

Slowly, I started to walk down, trying to figure out what the silence meant. I heard the occasional mummer, most likely about me. I did my best to smile, but my mouth refused to move. I was grateful for my flat shoes- any heels and I would have surely fallen._ "I'm doomed,"_ I thought when I reached the halfway point and the silence continued._ "I'm doomed I'm doomed I'm doomed I'm doomed I'm doomed-" _

"ANNIE!" I nearly jumped at the sudden voice. I turned my head and saw Alfred standing on one of the couches, waving his arms in the air like a mad man. It was so stupid of him- he surely must still be recovering from Pearl Harbor. "Merry Christmas!"

I felt myself relaxed and my soft smile portrayed it. I paused and leaned on the stair railing, waving back at him. "Hi Alfred!" I called back. "How has your Christmas been?"

The American laughed in triumph, as if to prove that he already had a relationship with the human. "Great!" He called back. "You should try the eggnog!" I laughed and continued my descent. My legs felt stronger and I wasn't so nervous.

The silence was broken and the countries started to shout the opinions like 'that's the human' and 'her boobs are so small, da-ze!'. I wondered who said the last part; I would like to punch them in the face for yelling out a comment about my chest. _"But I can't get careless now,"_ I told myself sternly._ "You're life is still on the line."_

At the bottom of the stairs there was an empty space. Roderich and Elizaveta were waiting for me down there, right next to a familiar pair of eyebrows. Arthur. The Brit held out an arm for me. It was a simple maneuver of British chivalry and I was grateful for it. Once I looped my arm in his it meant that he was my escort. "How are you?" he whispered, looking dashing in his tailcoats.

"I feel like crap," I replied just as quietly. He already knew that I wasn't the most decorous person, so I didn't feel obliged to act around him.

He snickered as the first country approached me. This stranger was around Arthur's height, but had longer blond hair. His nose was held high in the air, as if sniffing. "That's disappointing," he said, sticking his nose into my personal space. "I thought you'd smell better." I blinked. Did he think he was a dog or something?

Arthur frowned, scolding, "Romania, can you try to act normal for once?"

Romania flashed me a smile. I noticed his two prominent fangs, reminding me very much of a vampire. "It's alright," He reasoned. "I'm sure that Italy's given her worse."

Speaking of the Italian, where is he? Usually he comes over and hugs me by- "ANNIE~!" Figures. Feli, who had been previously hugging Ludwig, dashed over to me and latched his limbs around me in a hug. I would have toppled over if Arthur didn't keep me steady. "How are you~!" He asked, nuzzling his face into my wig.

"F-fine," I gasped, trying to keep the wig on my head. It would be embarrassing if it fell off. I would have demanded him to let go, but I realized that if I put up with it, I might come off as a nicer person to everyone else.

Feli kept up his little hug until a very calm voice said, "Italy-san, I think Annie-san would like for you to let go." I relaxed. It was Kiku, wearing some traditional Japanese garment. Beside him was a tall olive skinned man with short brown hair. I noticed multiple curls sticking out from the sides.

Feli "Vee~!" in disappointment before dashing off, saying he needed to say hi to his brother. I smiled at Kiku. "Thank you." I said.

Kiku nodded. "You're welcome." He motioned to the man besides him. "Annie-san, this is my friend Greece-san. Greece-san, this is Annie-san."

"I'm Heracles Karpusi,**" **hesaid, yawning as his eye drooped. I didn't know why, but just seeing the sleepy man made me want to go to sleep.

Crash!

I jumped as I saw a looming figure jump through the window and into the room. The stranger wore a green coat that fluttered around him in a dramatic effect as he flew across the room, drawing his curved sword. He landed right in front of me and I saw his face covered by a white mask. _"He's going to kill me,_" I realized, wondering which country had I managed to piss off. Except he didn't.

His sword was aimed directly at Heracles' neck. Said man didn't even flinch. The Greek yawned and bent backwards into a bridge stance, yawning in the process. "Do we have to do really do this this year Sadiq?" Heracles asked, still in his arched position.

Sadiq made a "tsk" sound before bringing the blade down to the other's stomach. The other kicked his legs up in the air, knocking the blade out of his hands and moving into a hand stand position. "Didn't you try this strategy in 1919?" he asked lazily, returning to his feet.

I tapped Kiku on the shoulder. "They've done this before?" I asked. I was hoping that even in my terrified state, my voice would remain low. However, someone else did hear me.

"They do this every year," a man wearing a white keffiyeh replied. Now that I think about it, he looked just as calm as Kiku.

Sadiq spat. "Egypt!" He called, stealing the man's attention. "Is that punk telling the truth?"

The country silently reached into the pocket of his white robes and pulled out a very thick notebook. "You may call me Gupta," he told me as he flipped through the pages. "Yes you did," he replied, finding a section labeled 1919. "You also used the same window."

"A window you have to replace," added a cross Tino. I didn't know what was worse: the unhappy Santa Clause or the equally pissed off Swedish man besides him.

Sadiq snarled. "Make the human do it," he snapped, pointing straight at me. I scowled and felt an objection rise to my lips. I didn't know who he was, but he was pissing me off.

I noticed Arthur looping his arm around mine again. "Let Sweden handle it," he said, ushering me away. He must have known that I was going to ruin everything. "Turkey is always like this." My jaw drop. Sadiq? He was Turkey? The Nation who threatened Ludwig and I? Unfortunately, this was not the fact that scared me. It was more like the idea that I nearly went 'Lovino' on the country set on hating me.

I didn't say anything as Arthur led me away to one of the couches where some familiar faces were seated. There was Francis, whose lap was occupied by an African girl in a pretty blue dress and across from them Alfred and Yao, sitting side by side, each drinking their own cup of alcoholic beverage. There was barely enough room for Arthur and I to sit.

"Annie!" Alfred said, giving me a hug. He wore one of those overly decorated holiday sweaters that surely must had been itchy. "Whatcha think of the party?"

I felt a lot better being around familiar faces (save the random girl on Francis's lap) and freely let myself laugh. "This party is weird," I replied, taking a spot between Arthur and Alfred. The American patted me on the back, saying random American stuff as I bid the rest of the group Merry Christmas. "I'm Annie," I introduced to the stranger in the blue dress. Am I the only one to notice that I've been saying that a lot? Maybe I should find a different phrase of introduction. I bet Alfred would know one.

The girl smiled. "I'm Seychelles," she said, twirling her red ribboned pig tails. Was it me or did her smile look mischievous? "Though you may call me Michelle Bonnefoy." Bonnefoy? Does that mean she's. . .

Francis slung an arm around her waist. "Aw, ma belle 'Chelles," he cooed, nuzzling her neck. "You can give her a better greeting than that." You know, leave it to the French to have sex with their relatives.

Michelle scowled as everyone else cracked-up laughing. Wait, did I say that last part out loud? Oops! Well I guess that I better hope she's not a violent country. Furious, she stood, muttering something in French. The country reached over and grabbed my collar and pulled my face close and planted a quick one on my lips. And by quick one, I mean kiss.

The exact words going through my head were _"Fucking bitch! What the fucking hell!"_ I reached out to punch her, but she jumped back and was in Francis's lap before I could swing. "Good enough greeting for you?" she asked.

Francis kissed her softly of the lips. "A bit degrading ma cheri, but it was beautiful."

I buried my face in my hands, hunching over to my lap. Alfred was laughing and patting my back as Arthur yelled at the "Goddamn Frog" to keep his daughter under control. I think that this was the equivalent of being violated.

"Get over it," Yao huffed, crossing his arms. "You act like a virgin-aru." Something told me that he was still sore about getting his gender confused.

I lifted my scarlet face from my hands. "I am a virgin," I snapped, trying my best not to say it too loud.

Francis smiled his disgusting smile. "I could change that if you want."

"No, Frog," I snapped in reply. You know, it actually felt good to call him that. I felt Arthur join Alfred in the back rubbing. It calmed me a bit, rendering me to lean back and breathe deeply. "How many people have you had sex with?" I asked. Hey, if you were in my position, you would be curious too.

"Ohonhon~!" he laughed. "Would you like to see my conquer list?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Conquer list?"

Alfred perked up. "Yeah!" he yelled. "Basically it's a list of every person we've had sex with!" Was I the only one disturbed about how freely they were talking about this? Must be from living for so long.

"Why?" It came from my lips hesitantly. I swear, if the Frenchman answered that question. . .

Luckily, Arthur answered. "We have to in case one of them gets pregnant," he replied matter of factly. "We wouldn't want a half breed."

"Half breed?"

Yao said, "Basically our genes as nations is a recessive gene-aru. If two of us had sex with two different people and they got pregnant and passed our recessive gene on to the baby and the two offspring have sex with each other and passed that gene to their child, then their child might be a half breed-aru."

I pretended that I understood half of that. "Okay, but what is a half breed?"

The Chinese man sighed and took another drink. "It depends really on the person's chemical make-up-aru. Some live extend lives, others don't age. One time a person had super strength-aru."

Alfred flashed me a smile. "That one was mine," he gloated. He shouldn't be so prideful about having a illegitimate child. He suddenly got an idea. "You wanna see my conquer list?" he asked, already jumping to his feet. Francis and Michelle joined him, apparently eager to show me their track record as well.

They were already walking away when Arthur jumped to his feet. "Don't show her that you gits!" He yelled, chasing after him. Great, not only was I going to be scared for life, but I was left alone with the Testy Panda.

I sat there awkwardly for a moment, trying to find a topic to talk about. It was best to go back to talking about the haft breeds. "What do you do when you find a half breed?" I asked, finding myself actually curious about the topic.

Yao took another sip of his drink. "Simple. We kill them-aru." This suddenly didn't seem like such a good topic.

"K-kill them?" I stuttered, feeling a bit disturbed.

He nodded. "Yes. Unless they have that one mutation-aru." He placed his cup on his knee, seemingly lost in thought. "I had one who had two lives. We killed him once and he came back to life-aru. The minute we shot him again, he died-aru."

"_Dear Lord, please help me,"_ I thought, figuring he was doing this to me on purpose. _"Please send me some angel to get me away from him."_

"China." When I asked for an angel, God laughed and sent me the devil. Ivan gave his creepy smile to us, saying, "Da, Korea is groping Lichtenstein again."

Yao was on his feet in a second. "Damnit!" he swore, already running towards the country in trouble. "Switzerland can't kill Korea again-aru!" I was no longer alone with Yao. However, I was now in an odd silence with Ivan. He seemed unaware of how uncomfortable I felt.

He smiled at me again. "Would you like to meet my comrades?" he asked. It was more of an order, one that I was afraid to disobey. I stuttered an 'okay' before following after him. His stride was large and three of my steps equal one of his. I was basically jogging after him, causing many odd glances.

Great.

Ivan's comrades were right by the shattered window, seemingly enjoying the cold air coming in from there. I glanced up and saw Sadiq standing on a ladder, try to tape a plastic sheet over it to cover up the hole. It looked hard, but I didn't feel sorry for him. A narrow faced blond was the first to notice us. "Brother," she said, drawing a dagger from the skirts of her blue dress. "Where have you been?" She didn't look very happy.

Ivan laughed nervously, saying, "I was just helping China, Belarus, da?" This was amazing. Ivan seemed very afraid of the girl before him, although she was my height and younger looking. Actually, this Belarus was very cute.

The sister scowled. "China, China- That's all you ever talk about," she said. The country pointed the knife at the Russian. "Why don't you ever talk about me?" she growled, getting an evil aura around her. "We are going to get married after all."

A tall woman came up to them, crying in big wails. "Brohter! Sister!" she cried. "It's Christmas! Why don't we all just get along?" I would like to get this out of the way before it becomes awkward- this woman has really big boobs. There, I said it! Happy?

Belarus turned on the woman. "Are you trying to steal my husband Ukraine?" she growled, pointing the knife at her neck. Ukraine cried some sort of apology, mostly about how she was such a failure to her younger brother. It just figures that Ivan's sisters would be screwed up one way or another.

"M-mister Russia?" The speaker was a man slightly taller than me. He had brown hair that barely touched his shoulders (Now that I think about it, his hair was similar in style to my wig). He sadly wore a black maid outfit that was too short for his comfort. "C-can you help me?"

Ivan smiled, obviously humored by this. "Da, what happened Lithuania?" he asked, chuckling lightly under his breath.

The answer came from a still cross-dressing Feliks. "Like Russia!" he called, oblivious to the Russian's evil aura. I wondered how he was able to do that. "Do you like love the dress I totally gave Liet?"

Lithuania sighed, turning a dark shade of red in embarrassment. Ivan cocked his head to the side, smiling childishly. "No I do not." he said. "Go change Lithuania back into his normal clothes, da?"

Feliks put up a bit more of an argument before finally giving in. he ushered a thankful Lithuania away, going on about how all of his efforts were put to waste. I gave Ivan a funny look. "Why did you do that?" I asked, deciding that it was a safe question to ask.

He gave me his creepy smile. "I always help out my comrades," he replied just as the clocks in the house tolled out the time to be midnight. Nations in the room shouted in joy, saying that their Christmas presents have arrived. That was odd- I saw no presents under the trees when I was descending the stair case. Ivan told me to go see whether or not Tino gave me any presents, biding me a "С Рождеством Христовым"

I walked over to a tree where Ludwig and Feli were gathered. Ludwig was opening his present calmly as Feli was tearing away at the paper. Antonio was on his hands and knees, helping Lovino find his presents when he saw me. "Feliz Navidad, Annie!" He greeted. The Spaniard held up a small box for me to see. "This one is addressed to you!" I blinked.

"It is?' I asked, taking a seat on the floor next to him. The package was a little heavy for its size. "Why do I have a-"

"Finland's Santa Clause~!" Feli exclaimed, having successfully unwrapped his present. In his hands were brand new white flags. "He knows what we all want~!" Ludwig finished unwrapping his when he blushed and gave a 'ja' in agreement. I could see that Tino had given the German some more naughty books.

With this in mind, I carefully unwrapped my box, to reveal a black handle. Curiously, I found a leaver and flicked it. I yelped when a serrated blade came out. I smiled in glee, knowing what it is. "Is that an automatic knife?" Antonio asked, looking at it in awe.

I nodded. My own switch blade! How cool is that? I suddenly wanted to run up to Tino and hug him. Actually, I was about to do so when Ludwig snatched the knife from my hands. "No, you are not having this," he said, angry at Tino for giving me such a weapon.

I pouted as Antonio patted his back carelessly. "Oh come on Germany! Just until Christmas is over," he said.

Ludwig glared at me and I pleaded, "I promise not kill anyone."

He groaned and tossed me the blade (by the way, that is not a safe thing to do, so don't try it at home) back to me. "Fine, just for today."

I squealed and ran away before he could change his mind. I saw other countries receive their gifts. Gilbert got some expensive beer, Ivan another scarf, Arthur some old leather book (probably magic related), and Sweden a hat that had a mistletoe hanging from it. He didn't seem to notice as he got a very confuse look on his face when people started to randomly kiss in front of him.

"ANNIE!" Alfred came running up to me, his conquest book in one hand and a huge gun in another. He looked overly joyful. "Whatcha get for Christmas? I held up the switch blade and he examined it. "Oh dude that's so cool!"

Kiku and Heracles walked up to us. Kiku had a box filled with Japanese food where as Heracles was holding a small kitten and a square box of who knows what. "Merī kurisumasu," the Asian greeted. "Did you all get what you were asking for?"

Alfred fist pumped. "Hell yeah! This gun is totally kick-ass!" he shouted.

Mr. Giginator walked up to us, still wearing the ridiculous hat. "H'w d' ye l'ke y'ur g'fts?" he grunted. I looked to the side and saw Kiku kiss Heracles on the cheek. I sighed and follow suit; kissing the three men on the cheek as well.. Berwald once again looked incredibly confuse.

Alfred turned to Kiku. "Do you want me to kiss you?" he asked. Kiku opened his mouth to answer when the American's lips were up against his in a passionate kiss. I swore as I saw all the obvious signs of them sticking their tongues down each other's throat.

"Don't. . .worry," Heracles said lazily scratching his kitten's ear. "They. . .like. . ."

I finished the sentence for him. "Each other?"

He nodded, yawning. "A lot." He seemed to remember something as he held out the square box for me to see. "Do you . . .want . . this?" I looked at it. It was apparently filled with German chocolates.

I nodded, excepting it. "Where did you get this?" I asked.

"I found. . .it. . under. . . the. . . .tree . . my name was on it. . .but it didn't. . . have the. . . from . . .line . . . filled in." It took about two minutes for the Greek to say all of that. During that time, Berwald walked away, clearly perplexed, and Alfred and Kiku were still at it. Seriously, didn't they need to breathe at all?

"Greece! Annie!" Joining us now was Elizaveta, joyfully holding a new frying pan. "How has the-" she paused when she saw the two men kissing. She stared in shock for a moment. Her hands flew up to her nose. I noticed blood seeping from the cracks.

"Are you alright?" I asked, not completely understanding how she got her nosebleed.

Elizaveta cried, "No! That's just-" she noticed Alfred slipping his hands under Kiku's shirt. "-That's so sexy!"

I gave her a crazy look. Seeing two curved men make-out with each other is sexy? How the hell does that. . .I had to admit, it was giving me another 'aw' moment, but I wouldn't go as far as to say it was sexy. I shook my head. "No it really isn't," I replied.

She flashed me a smirk and pointed to my nose. "But Annie, your nose is bleeding too." Hesitantly, my hand went up to my face and I felt the warm fluid seeping. The dark red on my hand only confirmed it for me. I swore and covered up my nose as fast as I could. It wasn't bleeding as hard as Elizaveta's, but still! This was bad!

Alfred and Kiku stopped. Upon seeing us, the American stifled a laugh where as his companion smiled. "I didn't take you to be into this kind of stuff," Kiku said when he saw the blood spill onto my dress.

"I'm not!" I yelled in reply, mentally begging my body to stop torturing me like this. My sudden yell attracted Matthias and his smaller blond friend (by the scowl, I would say he's Norway) over to us.

"What's going on here?" Norway asked bluntly, standing a bit behind his taller friend. It made him seem rather reclusive. Alfred whispered a plan into Matthias's ear as Kiku explained. Norway sighed. "Well that's stup-" He didn't get a chance to finish as Matthias's mouth went over his.

Our nose bleeds got worse as Alfred went back to kissing Kiku. I turned away from them and tapped my nose gently until the bleeding stopped. I gave a sigh of relief. Finally! Unfortunately, my female friend was not as fortunate. She fainted from blood lost. "Look at what you did!" I scolded, seeing her fall into her own pool of blood.

Eventually, we herded Roderich and Ludwig over to us and they helped me picked up her. Actually I really wasn't needed; the two were strong enough as is. We carried her to our room, meeting Feliks and Lithuania along the way. "You like totally can't go back out there wearing that," Feliks said, pointing to my blood cover dress.

Before I could object, he shoved Lithuania's maid outfit into my hands and ran off before I could object. Confused, I sped walk back to our rooms. Ludwig was sitting on a couch in the sitting room, trying to read a newspaper in Danish. I went into my shared room and found Roderich sitting next to a sleeping Elizaveta on the bed, looking incredibly worried. It looked as though his husband senses were kicking in and he needed time alone.

I took my suit case into the sitting room, closed the door behind me, and started to look through it. "What are you doing?" Ludwig asked, seeing articles of clothing aside in frustration.

"I don't have an extra dress!" I exclaimed. The only things I had left to wear were some traveling clothes and a night gown.

He pointed to the maid uniform. "Why don't you wear that?"

I gave him a crazy look and held it up for him to see. "Look at it!" I exclaimed. "It's too short, meant for someone with a figure, and is mostly a corset!"

The German snickered, enjoying my frustration. "Well what else can you wear?" he asked. "The minute you back to the ballroom with that on-" he motioned to my blood covered dress "-Romania is going to snap and attack you." He flicked his newspaper back over his face. "And it certainly won't win you any points with the other nations."

"And this will?"

"Ja. Especially the guy ones." I was lost for an argument. Grumbling, I marched into his room and changed into the dress. The corset made it impossible to breathe, and as expected, the skirt was too short (it barely came down to my knees). The collar was also low, making my Iron Cross show in plain view.

I went back to the sitting room and rummaged through my suit case until I found my leather book. "What are you doing?" Ludwig asked.

I turned away from him and stuffed the book and switch blade down my blossom. "Trying to get some breathing room," I growled back. It worked pretty well; the combination of the two items gave me enough room to take a deep breath in.

He grunted. "Whatever."

I stuck my tongue out at him and made sure I had everything. I came here with the switch blade and German chocolates- wait a second, I can use this as a way to confuse Ludwig, even freak him out a bit. I put on an innocent face and hid the candies behind my back. Timidly, I walked up to the nation. "Ludwig," I said softly. He looked up at me. "I-i have a gift for you."

The blond looked at me in shock. "You got me a present?" he asked in a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Inside my mind, I was cracking up laughing. His expression- it was hilarious!

I shoved the candies into his arms. "I hope you like it!" I yelled quickly before dashing out of the room and into the hallway. Out there, I took a second to appreciate how nicely I pulled off the nervous school girl act. _"I'm so evil,"_ I thought in triumph.

**December 25, 1941**

**Tino's house**

Worried, Canada walked down the hallway to where Finland said Hungary's room was. He was mad at America- purposely making her faint like that -and wanted to apologize in his place. His elder brother really did need to take other people's opinions into consideration.

He walked inside the warm room and saw a curious scene. _"Why is Annie wearing that?"_ he wondered as said girl in a ridiculous maid outfit stood, holding a box candies behind her back. Neither she nor Germany noticed his presence. He saw her shove the box into the German's hands before running out of the room. Was it just him or was she smiling oddly?

Canada watched as Ludwig observed the box carefully. He decided it was safe and opened it, finding it filled with fancily decorated chocolates. He popped one into his mouth. The Canadian was almost tempted to ask him for a piece- they looked good. The chocolates must have been since he smiled in joy, muttering something in German underneath is breath.

He swallowed and went for another, but paused. Within the period of five seconds, Germany turned a pale white in realization and fell over. Canada ran up to him, placing a hand over him neck, hoping to find a pulse.

There was none.

Canada stood and ran out of the room, horrified. Germany was dead. . And Annie killed him.

* * *

><p><strong>December 25, 1941<strong>

**Ballroom**

I looked out the falling snow from one of the large windows. Luckily, nobody noticed my arrival in this skank outfit. Romania had apparently snapped at the smell of Elizaveta's blood and was being suppressed by Alfred and countless other nations. I sighed. It was around one in the morning and I was feeling a bit tired. I drank some of the coffee on the food tables, but it was barely helping.

"Are you alright?" I snapped back awake at the sound of Gupta's voice. The Egyptian was standing right next to me in a reserved way.

I nodded. "Yeah, yeah," I said, rubbing the tiredness from my eyes. "Just sleepy."

He nodded. We heard Sadiq yelp as his ladder was knocked into by a kissing Michelle and Francis. That reminded me. "Gupta, why do Sadiq and Heracles hate each other?" I asked.

Gupta thought about it for a minute. "I suppose it's because Turkey killed Greece's mother," he said.

That was odd, a terribly cliché. "I thought you guys didn't have parents."

"Some of us do. Greece's mother is known as Ancient Greece. When Turkey was known as the Ottoman empire, he killed her in some war." That left us in a stalemate for conversation.

I shifted on the balls of my feet. "So how long have they been fighting each other?" I asked; thinking back to when Sadiq pulled his sword against Heracles.

Gupta shrugged. "Ever since Greece escaped Turkey's house I guess." He leaned against the window and crossed his arms. "It used to be they did this every time the met, but we eventually convinced them just to do it once a year at Christmas. Turkey use to beat him a lot, but for the past 32 years Greece has been on a winning streak." 32 years? That long? I'm not even close to being that old! Subconsciously, I started to scratch my head. This wig Hungary gave me is so itchy! "Gupta noticed this and asked, "Is that a wig?"

I wasn't necessarily surprised, but more curious to how he was able to identify it. The wig was very life like. "Yes. How did you know?"

His dark hand touched one of my locks. "It doesn't feel real." As odd as that was, I was ready to except that as a reasonable answer.

The band, composed of multiple nations, struck up another song and Tino called everyone into a dance. "You want to dance?" I asked. Hey, I spent all that time learning how to dance so I might as well put my newly obtained skills to use.

Gupta nodded. "Okay." We joined th other nations of the dance floor and he pulled me into a slow waltz. Like everyone else, we were graceful. Gutpa kept us in a steady pace. I felt myself relax. This wasn't so bad. However, I found it odd how most of the dancing nations were of the same sex.

I really should stop expecting better of them.

* * *

><p>Russia looked around the room. He needed a place to hide from Belarus and fast! He saw no one by one of the Christmas trees and quickly crouched behind it. It was a tight squeeze, but it worked. "What are you doing-aru?" A familiar voice asked.<p>

He looked and saw China hiding right next to him, looking mad about having his hiding space invaded. Russia smiled and said, "I could ask you the same thing, da."

China sighed and adjusted his position. "Korea wants to dance with me-aru," he replied. He looked at the taller nation. "And I presume Belarus wants the same thing-aru?"

Russia nodded. "Da." He knew he was lucky, having someone as understanding as China be his friend. Or at least he thinks he was his friend. A lot of people are nice to him because of his scary demeanor.

* * *

><p>Someone tapped my shoulder. Gupta and I stopped dancing and saw (I think) Matthew standing shyly. "C-can I dance with her for a while?" he stuttered, face red and blue eyes looking down. Aw, how cute, he's nervous!<p>

Gupta released me and walked off to do whatever and the Canadian took his spot. With Matthew, we moved at a less graceful flow. He hands were sweating- a lot -and he refused to look up from his feet. In fact, there seemed to be something bothering him. "Hey." he jumped at my voice. "Is something wrong?"

* * *

><p>China sighed. He was getting bored, just sitting here doing nothing but fear his crazy younger brother finding him. He turned to the larger man. "Why don't we dance-aru?" he suggested nonchalantly. Hopefully, Korea would give up once he saw the Russian with him.<br>Russia smiled at the prospect. "Da!" he exclaimed, already getting back to his feet. China followed suit, just to notice a small, still wrapped gift. His taller companion noticed it as well. "That's odd," Russia said, picking the box up. He noticed that it was a little heavy for its size. "It's unusual for Finland to hide a present like this." He turned it over in his hands. "It's not addressed to anyone either, da."  
>China sighed. <em>"He's over reacting,"<em> he thought, annoyed by the idea that Russia was more interested in the box than him. "Why don't we open it-aru?" he suggested, hoping to gain the Russian's attention again.  
>He gave a small 'da' in reply before unwrapping it. Without the colorful paper, they could see that the box was just simple cardboard. Russia torn it open to find it filled to the brim with a kind of white putty. What in the world is that? Russia lifted it to his face and smelled it.<br>His violet eyes grew wide._ "Oh no."_

* * *

><p>Matthew looked me in the face. "Do you. . ." He trailed off, as if reconsidering his question. "Do you hate Germany?"<p>

I sighed. That was it? He had me worried for a second there. "Kind of," I replied, before grimacing when his grip tightened. "Ow" I exclaimed, trying to rip my hand from his hold. He was stronger then he looked. "Would you stop it?"

The blond looked me straight in the eye. "Why did you kill him?" he whispered fiercely.

I paused. "What?"

* * *

><p>Russia (trailed by China) ran out from his hiding place and to the next decorated tree over. "Aiiya!" China exclaimed, trying to keep up. "What is wrong Russia-aru?"<p>

Russia ducked behind a tree closer to the window. He paused and turned to his companion. "It's C4!," he exclaimed before rummaging around the base of the tree.

China gasped. C4? As in the plastic based explosive? "What are we doing-aru?" he exclaimed. "We have to tell everyone else-aru!"

The other shook his head before unwrapping another unwrapped gift. It was also filled with C4. "We have to find the detonator, da" He said, before getting out from his hiding place. "And besides, death is only painful for us, not permanent." China had to admit, he was right.

Something landed at the base of their feet. It came in from the window Turkey was still trying to fix. Russia and China bent down to look at it. It was small and a dark green color.

Grenade.

Russia grabbed China's arm and started running through the dance floor. His thoughts were moving faster though. _"There is probably more C4 in this room," _he figured. _"And that grenade will go off in about fifteen seconds."_ His comrades. He had to help his comrades.

His eyes darted to Belarus and Ukraine. They were chatting at the couch. _"Not enough time to reach them."_ Estonia and Latvia were dancing on the dance floor. _"They disobeyed me yesterday- they don't deserve to be saved."_ His eyes then found his favorite: Lithuania. He was, for some reason, still in Poland's maid outfit and was dancing with some blond he couldn't place the name of._ "I can grab him."_

Russia ran faster through the surprised crowd of wondering nations just as a hyper Korea found his elder brother. "Da-ze!" he exclaimed. "Your breasts will be mine!" He groped China's chest, adding weight for Russia to carry. As much as he would hate to admit it, but Russia knew that with Korea and China in tow, the combined weight would hinder him, and he wouldn't be able to escape or reach Lithuania.

Hesitantly, he released his friend's arm and continued on. Russia didn't want to do it, but his comrade had the chance to escape and he couldn't let that up. He reached Lithuania just in the nick of time. Grabbing him around the waist, he yanked him away from the blonde's grasp and jumped through the nearest window.

Just as the grenade went off, setting off the remaining C4 in a chain reaction.

* * *

><p><strong>MW<strong>: Well this chapter is over 10,000 words, therefore it is the LONGEST CHAPTER YET! I nearly didn't finish this in time, so you better be thankful.

**SEK**: That's right! Though what the hell just happened?

**MW**: No worry, it'll all be explained. Eventually. *Looks at the previous chapter's reviews* Wow.

**SEK**: What?

**MW**: Most of these are about David. Didn't think he'll be THAT popular.

**SEK**: Whatever. Well visiting hours are over so I got to go.

**MW**: No! Don't leave me~! People! Review so that my bail can be paid.

**Fun Facts and Translations**

"Er du menneskelige" Are you human? Danish.

"being a puny country like Denmark? And how can he be so tall?" Please don't tell me I'm the only one wondering that.

"Schönling" Pretty boy. German.

"Smuk dreng? . . . berusede hore kæreste!" Pretty boy? Says that druken whore lover! Danish.

"Fröhliche Weihnachten," Merry Christmas. German.

"I'm not your wife" I don't like the stereotype that Finland accepts Sweden as his husband. In the webcomic's Christmas special, Finland was answering fan mail and got very mad when people called his 'Sweden's Wife'

"Romania flashed me a smile. I noticed his two prominent fang" Romania=Vampire

"Keffiyeh" Just look at Eygpt's official character desing, it's the thing on his head.

"Conquer list" In (I believe) the second season of Axis Powers, Italy showed Japan his 'Conquer list' which was a book filled with pictures of him with many woman.

"Testy Panda" For anyone who reads "Of Kings and Pawns" this'll sound familiar to you.

"С Рождеством Христовым" Merry Christmas. Russian.

"Feliz Navidad" Merry Christmas. Spanish.

"Merī kurisumasu" Merry Christmas. Japanese.

**Next Chapter: **Part Two of the Christmas part, where 75% of what you just read will make sense.

*****REVIEW! SEK DOESN'T WANT TO PROOFREAD ANOTHER CHAPTER WRITTEN ON TOILET PAPER*****


	11. The Nightmare on Christmas

**MW: **Yes! My bail! It has been paid!

**SEK**: That's right, so we must thank you all for reviewing bringing the review count to 50.

**MW**: *gasp* There are fifty reviews! *runs to computer* OH MY GOD! YES!

**SEK**: Um, is that a good thing?

**MW**: *nods* we're haft way to 100, and when that happens, I'll get fan art.

**SEK**: What makes you say that?  
><strong>MW<strong>: Well every story I've read that has over 100 reviews always has at least one piece of fan art.

**SEK**: And you want fan art?

**MW**: Or a fan fiction.

**SEK**: A fan fiction of a fan ficiton. . .*groan* People, review and tell her to shut-up so that I don't have to.

**MW**: Wait! We can't start to chapter yet!

**SEK**: Why not?

**MW**: I have to tell the audience two things! One, this is a really depressing chapter, so I suggest listening to depressing music to add effect. Second, isn't it ironic how this is the Christmas chapter, yet tomorrow's halloween? Haha, how funny. Okay, you may start now.

**Chapter Summary:** Things go from bad to worst as the Christmas Arc ends

**Warnings:** Gore, blood, language, abuse, sadness

**Disclaimer:** I just paid my bail; therefore I have no money to buy the rights to Hetalia.

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 10~<strong>

**The Nightmare On Christmas**

* * *

><p><strong>December 25, 1941<strong>

**What Used to Be Tino's House**

My eyes lids were heavy. They begged and yearned for me to keep them closed, but there was a slurred mumble among the ringing in my ears. It sounded urgent. Perhaps it was Mom trying to wake me up to go to church. Yes, that was it. I had to go to church. I opened my eyes to find a familiar huge shape bending over me, yelling something at me. Behind him was a bright orange glow. I half noticed the smell of smoke in the air. He was definitely not my mom. In fact, he looked very Russian.

"Ivan?" I mumbled, slurring my words together. The man yelled something at me. "What?" I asked, feeling my eye lids drop again. Ivan grabbed my shoulders and shook me, trying to regain my attention. The only thing he achieved was making the pain in my head worse. "W-what a-are you. . ." I drifted away, feeling my consciousness leave me again. I fell into another comfortable sleep.

When I opened my eyes again, I noticed that I was leaning against a source of heat. My head was still in a fog and my ears rang slightly, but I could clearly make out the orange shape of a camp fire. Its glow hurt my eyes. A voice in a foreign language spoke smooth and evenly where as another one spoke in a tense tone. "What's going on?" I mumbled softly. The voices continued on, unaware that I was even awake.  
>I looked around me and saw an even larger fire blazing amongst dark shapes. Again, the light hurt my eyes. I looked downward and saw endless white. I kicked off one of my flats and placed a bare foot on it. Almost immediately, the cold took over my body. <em>"Snow," <em>I realized.  
>The events of the night slowly came back to me. <em>"I was at a party . . . Alfred and Kiku kissed . . . there was the dress . . . dancing with what's his face? . . . then Ivan grabbed me. . ." <em>My body became ridge as I remembered flying through the window in Ivan's arms as the house exploded behind me, shattering my ear drums.  
>Ivan noticed me tense and looked down at me. "Don't move," he ordered nonchalantly. "You might injure yourself again, da?" I noticed for the first time that the source of heat I was leaning against was his shoulder and the man's coat was around both of us (as if that wasn't awkward).<br>"Injuries?" I asked, still slurring my words a bit. I tried to sit up by myself, but felt a shot of pain come over me. For the first time, I looked over how bad of a shape I was in. My left ankle was covered in a torn piece of white cloth with a stick holding to straight. From the pain radiating from it, I felt it safe to say if was broken. Covering my legs and arms were severe burns. By the way my head felt, it was obvious I had a concussion. How sever, I couldn't say.  
>Another voice groaned. "Why didn't we just let her die?" He asked, sounding very unhappy about my presence. I glanced his way and frowned seeing Sadiq scowling from under his white mask in my direction. He sat across from me on the other side of the fire. Of course he'd be here.<br>Ivan didn't even blink. "I risked my life saving her," he snapped. "So I get to say whether we kill her or not, da?" I was both thankful and scared to death of having my life in Ivan's clutches.  
>I shifted a bit in my spot, being careful not to disturb my wounds. "You saved me?" I asked.<br>He shrugged, "I was trying to save Lithuania." The country's violet eyes gazed out at the still burning house wistfully. "But I confused him for you." Figures. I followed his gaze. I wondered if we were the only ones alive. Just Ivan, Sadiq, and me? Surely that couldn't be true. I don't even know why the damn place blew up in the first place. I asked him so, and he replied, "Someone planted plastic based explosives in the room and threw a grenade inside. I saw it, grabbed you, and escaped."  
>I looked at Sadiq, wondering how he escaped virtually unscratched. He smiled and threw a stick into the fire. "I saw the grenade come in," he told me, gloating the fact in my face. "So I jumped out the window and ran as far away from the blast as possible."<br>A horrified look over came my face. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" I demanded, feeling heat rise in my face. "If there was grenade, that means someone wanted to kill you people! If you told someone, maybe you could have saved a few lives! Why didn't you tell?"  
>As I made my speech, the Turkish man sat there patiently, a smirk covering his face. Sadiq simply said, "Survival of the fittest." I know that I shouldn't have been shocked, but the reply did make sense in its own twisted way. They were countries, so I guess I <em>shouldn't<em> have been surprised.

I gulped and looked back at the fire. The light was no longer hurting me so much. "Are we -" I stopped and took a breath. I was afraid of asking the question - for the reply I feared I might get. "- are we the only ones still alive?"

Ivan smiled. "Sadly, we are not that lucky."

Me: "What?"

The next occurrence shouldn't have surprised me either. From the fire, came walking two figures, one carrying two bodies, another carrying eight. As they came closer, the one with two bodies waved to me. I recognized them: Alfred and Matthias. Obviously, Alfred was carrying the more of the two. "Annie!" He called, not bothered by all the dead weight on his shoulders. He was covered with burns and his bone was sticking out of his elbow, rendering his left arm useless. Matthias was in no better shape either. Not only did he have an ominous blood stain spreading down his legs, but haft of his face was burned horribly.

I felt the acid from my stomach rise into my throat. The sight was almost too gruesome for me to handle. I was at a lost with words. What else could I do but wave back to them? The two blonds stopped a few feet away from us and unloaded their load. I pulled Ivan's coat off of me. "What are you doing?" He asked.

I did my best to stand up, but my broken ankle made it impossible. "I want to help them," I said. There was more to it. I also wanted to see who was dead so far. Was it anybody I cared about? Ivan shook his head and stood. He took his coat off and wrapped it around me completely. "What are you doing?"

"You can't walk around in such little clothing," he replied evenly. "Especially in this cold." It took me a moment to realize what he meant. The skank outfit I was wearing. Of course. Due to my fall, the already short skirt was torn a few more inches and the ends were burned. To top it off, I was also wearing flats that were being soaked by the snow. At least my wig, slightly singed at the ends, was giving my head a little warmth.

"Are you going to be alright without your jacket?" Even as I asked it, I was buttoning the black coat. It wasn't his traditional brown trench coat, but a long black fancy one meant for a party. At least the Russian still had his scarf to keep him warm. Actually, it seemed more than enough.

He nodded, giving me his signature smile. "Da. Would you like me to carry you over there?" Sadiq made barfing noises. I accepted, knowing that this was the perfect opportunity to torture the country. Ivan lifted me into his arms, careful not to hurt any of my wounds. He was unsuccessful; his arms pressed roughly against the burns on my body.

He placed me a few feet away from the pile Matthias and Alfred were making. They worked quietly with solemn expressions carved upon their faces. "Try putting some snow on those burns" was all Matthias said to me. The action seemed counterproductive, but the cold did sooth the pain. I took a minute to recognize the ten faces laid out before me.

The first was a man I vaguely recognized as Romania. By the looks of it, not only was he burned, but a wood beam had impaled him in the stomach. "He's the reason I survived," Alfred said sadly, noticing my gaze. He told me of how he had been restraining him and took most of the blow for him.

Next to him was Arthur, burned with most of his face missing. The only way I could recognize him was his still thick eyebrows. He laid beside Matthew who had a similar fate. I felt bad for them both, though I remembered how oddly the Canadian had been acting during that dance. He said I killed Ludwig, but how? What did I do?

Matthias laid Roderich and Elizaveta right next to each other. I thought it rather fitting the way they died; the similar fatal head wounds that still bled slightly.

Yao and another Asian I couldn't place were next. Yao was missing a limb where as the other Asian's legs looked severely crushed. I felt bad for not knowing who he was, though the random curl popping from the side of his head looked familiar in a way.

Alfred looked down at a particular corpse. I crawled over to him and saw that it was Kiku. He was also in bad shape, but not as bad as the others. I felt a few tears brim around my eyes before falling down my cheeks. I felt the trails they left freeze. The blond removed his cracked glasses and crouched to my level. "Are you alright?" he asked.

I shook my head and he placed a comforting arm around me. "Now's not the time to cry," he told me. "Don't waste your tears on us." I was impressed; that was the most intelligent thing I've ever heard him say. I made a sound to object, to tell him that Kiku was worth it, but he just shook his head. "Nah, don't bother. He'll be alright."

I didn't know what he meant. Kiku wasn't breathing.

"Bruder?" The quiet voice made both of us look over to Matthias crouching down over a familiar puff of blond hair. Lili. She looked bad- most of her body burned and missing an arm while her other limbs were bent at odd angles. She looked up weakly at Matthias. "Is big bruder still alive?" she asked, still sounding very weak.

The Danish man didn't have the heart to tell her that Vash was lying right next to her, dead as a rock. Matthias gulped. "He's fine." The lie was so obvious, but Lili still got a content smile of her face. "I swear on my title as the King of Northern Europe."

She closed her eyes. "Gut."

Matthias slowly walked over to us. "Her lung's pierced," he whispered, hoping only Alfred and I heard. "She doesn't have much time." I stole another glance towards Lili. She was still breathing, but it was uneven, shallow, and full of pain. Was she aware that she was drowning in her own blood?

Alfred bit his lip, thinking about his options for a moment. "There is no way to be the hero in this situation," he said at last. The look in his blue eyes was painful.

"But there is a way to be merciful." Matthias stood and picked-up his abandoned ax and swung it over his shoulders. I was confused until he started to walk towards Lili.

I gripped Alfred's hand. "Are you really going to let him do this?" I asked, despair seeping into my voice. He didn't reply, just pulled me into a hug, burying my face in his chest. I couldn't see, but I heard Matthias swing the ax blade down in a clean swipe, decapitating Lili. I knew why he did it-when done properly, a decapitation was painless.

Even long after the American released me, I was still hugging him, sobbing shamelessly into his tacky Christmas sweater. I felt as though I was a little kid again, re-experiencing my mother death. But this- this was much worse. Everyone deserved to live, not me: Annabel Milano Henson, the girl conspiring against them. Against Ludwig who, according to Matthew, I efficiently killed.

I didn't notice Alfred when he picked me up and carried me back to the campfire. Sadiq spat into the flames when he saw my sad state. "Typical humans," he growled. Alfred took a seat next to Ivan and continued to hold me and Matthias took another seat next to Sadiq. "When are those damn Finish officials getting here?" the Turkish man demanded.

Matthias held his ax upright and leaned against it. "It depends," he said, sounding very tired. "What time is it now?"

Ivan looked at his silver watch. "About two in the morning."

The Danish man looked up at the starry sky and mumbled, "So if the house exploded an hour ago. . ." He snapped his fingers, exclaiming, "They'll be here around seven."

Sadiq scowled. "Seven?" he exclaimed. "Why the hell seven?"  
>The other gave him a look. "Remember what happened back in 1865?" He asked. Sadiq was forced to nod. "Well since then the Finish officials have delayed sending any help to us for six hours unless contacted by one of us."<p>

Ivan nodded in understanding. "That makes sense," he said thoughtfully. "Da?"

The masked country sighed. "Evet." I was curious to what happened back in 1865, but I didn't ask.

No one said anything afterwards. We all sat in an uncomfortable silence. My wails had reduced to nothing more than a sniffle, but I didn't unbury my face from Alfred's chest. It felt as though the moment I returned to the real world, another equally gruesome scene was going to play out before me.

Alfred suddenly laughed his obnoxious laugh. It obviously forced, but still seemed very convincing. "Come one guys! We're the heroes!" he said. Or maybe it was yelled? Either way, I still didn't move from my position. "Why don't we have a bit of fun?"

Sadiq glared at him. "What are we suppose to do?" he demanded, sounding incredibly angered.

"We can tell some stories," Ivan suggested. He seemed very excited by the very idea of it. "As long as it was not historical, da?" I found that understandable- living as long as they have, most of their stories would be classified as history.

Matthias volunteered to go first. "So back when I was a Viking, I decided to plunder some English towns," he said. "As I was doing so, I come upon a girl. She was so cute with her little tuff of blond hair~ so I kidnapped her and was so prepared to get laid when I was taking off her shirt; I noticed she had no girl parts." He gave a dramatic pause, letting what he said sink in. "It was then I realized she had incredibly thick eyebrows!"

We all snickered. "Dude! You wanted to have sex with the old man?" Alfred was clutching his sides. I was even feeling better, unlatching myself from the American and laughing slightly. "Okay! My turn! So I was talking to Australia and I asked him whether or not every Australian rode kangaroos places. He looked at me and with complete seriousness replied, 'Nah man. The rich kids ride emus.'"

This was more American humor and only I had found it hilarious. Everyone else chuckled politely. Sadiq growled, "Why don't you tell us one?"

I gave him a look. "Why me?"

"You're human," he said. "You probably have something interesting to share." I seriously doubted that. They were countries, which is basically their own branch off of the human gene pool. I was merely a simple girl, what could I tell that could be remotely interesting enough for them?

"I have a legend," I said after racking my brain for a good one. "It's about an angel."

Matthias seemed attentive. "Angels? Do tell!" His urging was comforting.

Leaning against Alfred, I said, "It's something my mom told me when I was little. When the Roman Empire fell, God was concern that humanity would revert back to their time of anarchy and unholy ways. So he sent an angel down Earth. This angel was named Arsenius. Arsenius roamed around Italy, helping those righteous and good hearted. He spent so much time in Italy that he eventually gained the nickname 'L'Angelo d'Italia 'or 'the Angel of Italy.'"

Ivan cocked his head to the side. "Do you have a relation to this angel?"

I nodded. "Yes actually." I pulled my legs close to my chest and hugged them. "My Great-Great-Grandmother came from a poor fishing family. She went to church every day and lived a fair, but poor life with my Great-Great-Grandfather. All she yearned for was a child, but no matter how they tried, she could not conceive one. One day, Arsenius was wandering the Italian coast when he heard her pleads to God. He took pity on her and told her that she would have a child within the year. As predicted, she did. In his honor, she named her child 'Italia'. However, they were too poor to supply efficient food. So, my Great-Great-Grandfather went fishing in a storm in hopes of catching more fish. His boat hit the rocks. Arsenius saw this and saved him. When he heard that their child was named after the country he loved the most, he felt honored and blessed them with another boat. The boat was named _The Arsenius_ in his honor.

"Every since then, every boat in my family has been called_ the Arsenius_ and everyone has a name related to the country the angel loved the most."

My audience listened in complete silence, appreciating my words. "So that's why your boat has a goofy name," Alfred said, making the revelation. I nodded.

"Annie, do you have an Italian name?" The question came from Matthias.

I nodded. "Yes. It's my middle, 'Milano' for the province Milan. My brother's is 'Veneto' for a region by the east border and my mother's was 'Roma' for the capital city of Rome."

Sadiq huffed. "That's stupid," he said. "Why would anyone bel-"

Alfred lifted his hand up in the air, signaling everyone to be quiet. "Do you here that Ivan?" By the usage of their human names, I would say that whatever he heard wasn't a country. We sat in the silence, hearing at first only the noises of the crackling woods in the fires. Once, the blond had to motion for me to soften my breathing. Then, we heard it. Dogs. Barking. They were far off, but steadily coming closer.

Ivan nodded, getting to his feet. He pulled out his blood stained pipe. "Da." Matthias and Sadiq were quick to follow. The blond swung his ax in the air and pointed it in the animals' direction. The other simply pulled out his sword and fixed his stance. I remembered the items I had stuck in my bosom. I reached in and pulled out my switch blade. It wasn't much, but it could save my life.

Alfred stood and lifted me onto his back, knowing that my busted ankle made it very hard to move. He was weaponless and his left arm was still broken. How was he going to be able to defend himself? _"His strength,"_ I realized. If he used it right, the American could do some serious damage- even with me on his back.

It was quiet as we waited for the dogs to come. I guess after this I would have another reason to hate the K-9s. After a few minutes of complete silence, I was convinced that the dogs had moved on. I whispered, "May they're gon-"

Five German Sheppards jumped from the woods. Their white teeth were barred and they showed no mercy. Matthias ducked under one leaping and hit it with the staff of his ax. Sadiq slashed his own with his sword, ripping open its stomach. I did my best not to barf at the falling organs.

My carrier held out an arm and let his dog bite down on it. He grimaced as it chewed away at his skin. "Aren't you going to fight it away?" I asked, nervous at the damage the beast was doing.

Alfred shook his head, saying, "Nah. I like dogs." I suddenly didn't feel so safe in the idiot's presence. I turned my attention to our tallest ally.

Ivan was set against two dogs. The Russian just stared at them as they latched onto his legs. Very simply, he slashed his pipe across their bodies. He barely used any force, but they whimpered and retreated with their tails between their legs . . . to a group of looming figures entering the fire light.

There were about fifteen of them, each wielding his own firearm. There was at least three pointed at one of us. None of us had a long distance weapon, though I bet Ivan could have taken down a few before getting shot. Even so, Matthias, Ivan, Sadiq, and I dropped our weapons, though Alfred and I were still held in place by the dog.

I took a moment to identify who exactly was our enemy. They were all men, each in their early to late twenties. All had blond hair and wore civilian clothing. If it wasn't for their weapons, I would call them harmless. Their leader- a man no older than twenty -stepped forward. He smirked at us. "I expected a fight," he said, blue eyes dancing with gloat.

It was hard to tell what his exact features were; the fire could only illuminate so much. Ivan shrugged. "We're out numbered," he said simply.

The man motioned for his men to bind us. Five lowered their weapons and roughly grabbed our arms, handcuffing them behind our backs. I was force to leave the safety of Alfred's back, making me feel cold and vulnerable on the snow ground next to him. The man forced the others still standing onto their knees. He pulled out a torch (you Americans call it a 'flashlight') and shined it into our faces.

It took me a minute to realize what he was doing, but it came clear when he started to mumble: "Big nose, Russian. . .Blond hair and blue eyes, Scandinavian. . .tacky sense of style, American. . .olive skin, Mediterranean. . " He removed Sadiq's mask to reveal a handsome faced man "-Dark skin, Mediterranean." I started to suspect, but was afraid that it might be true. They couldn't be. . .

The man turned off his torch. "A very interesting selection," he said mirth in his voice. "Though I was hoping for an Asian."

Ivan flashed the man his childish smile. "May I ask what's going on?" he said, enjoying the chills he was sending down the attacker's spine.

The leader bent down to Ivan's height, giving his own twisted smile. "Are you pretending to be stupid?" he asked. "I think you know quite well why we're here." I noticed his American accent. More proof to what I was afraid of.

Alfred, unashamed of his weaken state, said loudly, "Well do you mind telling me? I'm kinda lost here!" God love the American's ignorance.

The man sighed, taking a second to consider his options. I knew what he was thinking: Should he, or should he not reveal his knowledge? He had them at his mercy, yet there could still be more out there. But by the smirk that never left his face, I could tell he was prideful. He probably thought that he was God at that moment. "You're not human," he said at last. "None of you are. You are, what we call, HETAs."

My heart dropped. That was what I suspected. He was like me: conspirators against these immortal people. The problem was which family he came from. If he was a Henson, then I was safe. However, if he was a Parker or Connor, then I was as good as dead. Maybe he was a Fisher, which in that case; I had a good 50/50 chance of survival.

Alfred and Matthias exchanged crazy looks. 'What the hell is a HETA?" they asked in unison. That was mildly expected. HETA was a term coined by us humans and I highly doubted that had they ever heard of it before.

The man took out a cigarette and lighted it. "It's you," he said, letting out a puff of smoke. "You've been around forever. You control our governments and can't die." I was hoping to get an idea of which family he was in alliance with, but so far, nothing.

Now was probably be a good time to explain this family business to all of you. There was more than just my family, the Hensons, going after the HETAs. There were probably hundreds around the world, but only five I know of exactly. The first was my own family. The hunt for the HETAs started back during the revolutionary war, and we believed it to be unfair to have a single man controlling our government. The idea of one killing my mother was just an added bonus. The Parker family is American and shares the same beliefs. However, the Parkers and Hensons never saw eye to eye and are enemies.

That is, however, until my Dad married Abigale. Or at least it should be. Our families still work separately and there is much bitterness between us.

The last three I know of are the Alwin, Fisher, and Connor families. The Alwins are also American, but they are relatively peaceful. They've been at it since the Civil War and believed that beings with sped healing abilities could greatly advance medical science. They mostly stayed neutral in conflicts between families, though that will change soon when I marry the head's son, Walter. Remember him?

The Fisher family is always switching sides. They refuse to reveal when they started their conquest and they show no signs of having a reason for being in it at all. Gives you a good idea how dependable those Irishmen are. Luckily, David is friends with a member of their family, James Fisher. You know, the man I spent my POW days with?

The last family, the Connors, recently allied with the Parker family when Rosa married one of their members, a Charles Bright. They also share their beliefs with the Parkers.

The best way to describe the families overall is a mafia. There could be a hundred members with their own turf and their own last names, but they take on their leader's last name upon joining. In the big scheme of things, they're relatively small and stay out of the law's eyes. And we prefer to keep it that way, which is why this attack is so surprising.

Speaking of which, I should get back to it.

Sadiq rolled his eyes. "Seriously?" he asked, doing a great job showing that he had no idea what they were talking about. "Ivan, you hear this?"

Ivan nodded. "Da. Live forever? Can't die? That's crazy."

"Yeah, like from a Sci-fi movie," Alfred added. Matthias yelled in agreement.

The man was not pleased. He pressed the barrel of his own gun against Matthias's head and threatened, "So if I shoot you, you will die?"

Matthias nodded. "Yes, but why bother and get charged with murder?" he asked. The man shifted his feet, a sure sign that he knew he was right. Matthias motioned to the body pile he and Alfred created earlier. "Why don't you just check over there and get your proof?"

A group member checked first, before announcing that they were all dead. The man, whom I am dubbing 'Leader', lowered his gun and joined him. Leader studied the bodies and I felt colder than ever. He kicked at one of them. "Three Asians here," he noted, displeased. He lifted Yao by his hair and dragged his limp body closer to us. "Is he Japanese?" he asked.

We all were quiet. "No," Ivan said at last. There was a hurt look in his eyes. "He's Chinese."

Leader smiled and released the corpse's head. "Alright, how about-" He lifted Kiku's head by the same manner and dragged his forward. "Him?"

I noted the blood trail he left behind, but said nothing. I noticed the way Alfred looked. His muscles were tense and his eyes were wide behind his glasses. His lips were moving, though no words came forth. Leader took it as a yes. "So he's Japanese." He smiled. "Perfect."

He dropped Kiku's head and pulled out his own switchblade. It became clear what he was about to do- mutilate his body. Leader didn't even blink when he drove the blade into Kiku's chest and drew it down to his pelvis. I looked away and felt another urge to barf.

Alfred was suddenly fighting against his bounds. Not too hard though, or else the leader would know he had super strength. 'No!" He screamed desperately. "Don't you dare-" A man kicked him painfully in the face.

Leader pulled his blade out of the body and walked over to Alfred, interested. "Why not?" he asked, grabbing the blonde's hair in a fist full. "You're American right?" Alfred whispered a yes. "And you know about Pearl Harbor?"

He looked up at him, fire in his eyes. "Of course," he growled.

Leader pointed his blade in Kiku's general direction. "And you're telling me I shouldn't make that bastard pay for what he did?" There was a mixture of humor and disbelief in his voice.

Alfred spat at him. "I can keep my personal life out of my duties."

"And what are your duties?" Alfred paled, realizing he said something he shouldn't had. Leader roughly grabbed his shirt collar and brought the Americans face closer to his. There was a gloat in his eyes. "Admit it," he growled. "You're a HETA."

Alfred met his steady gaze. "I'm not a HETA." His persistence was amiable, though the wary looks of his fellow countries made it plain that it was over.

Leader frowned and released him. "Fine. You're a traitor to your own country." That was ironic, since Alfred is American. "But what about the other bastards of the war?" He looked us over and said, "Möchten Sie mir, Ihnen zu entstellen?" I recognized the German, though I had no idea what he said. When none of us made a response, he tried a different language. "Vuoi che mi spacco il tuo collo bastardo?

That was Italian and I knew what he meant. He was going to kill Alfred. And Alfred. . .no, I can't let that happen! No matter what. I lunged forward only to be restrained by a few men. "No!" I screamed, feeling my whole being fill with panic. "Non ucciderlo! Si prega di non ucciderlo!" It was shameful the way I was begging him, but I was desperate not to let anyone else die.

Leader smiled and approached me. "So you're Italian," he said, taking a drag. It occurred to me that everyone else knew what he said and my sudden outburst was pretty meaningless. If Alfred had made us lose a few points, then I just guaranteed our failure.

He approached me. "And a girl too." He roughly tried to grab my hair, but only succeeded in pulling off my wig. He scowled and threw it into the fire. "And an ugly one at that." Leader took a fist full of my brown locks and dragged my forward on the ground. The burns on my legs screamed in pain. He stood behind me and lifted me painfully to my feet. The man placed his cheek against mine. "So you would like to take his place?"

I said nothing as he tauntingly danced the edge of the bloodied knife along my neck. "But women talk so much easier than men." He motioned and his men pointed a gun at every country's forehead. "Now you have ten second to tell me the truth before I start blasting their heads off." This was not good. "One."

This was seriously not good.

"Two."

Alfred looked at me, as if to say 'Don't tell him'.

"Three."

I could stop this. . .

"Four."

Sadiq sighed and prepared himself to be shot.

"Five."

If I knew what family Leader was from. . .

"Six."

Matthias flashed me a confident smile.

"Seven."

But if I told him, would he even listen to me?

"Eight."

Ivan had an unconcerned look on his face.

"Nine."

"Stop!" My voice was sudden and hoarse. Leader paused, triumph overcoming him. He thought he won. I took one last glance at my comrades, knowing that this would be the last time they ever trust me. If they ever did in the first place. I did my best to look Leader straight in the eye. "What family are you from?"

My question caused him to release me. Losing his support, I collapsed on my bad ankle. I turned onto my butt and faced him on my hands and knees. The confuse looks of the countries were plain. "Family," he repeated. He pointed the gun at me. "I am Rodger Parker! Proud son of-"

I waved a hand in the air lazily. "Joseph Parker." He eyes me suspiciously. I verified, "Joseph is Abigale's cousin, right?" Rodger nodded suspicion filling his eyes.

He took my chin in his hands, forcing me to look him straight in the eyes. "You know a lot about me," he said, cigarette dancing in his mouth. "So who are you?"

The smoke from his mouth made me cough. "No one in particular." It seemed as though everyone, including myself, was holding their breaths. It clicked in Ivan's head who I was and he glared at me in a curious way, as if not sure what to think.

Rodger moved on with his questioning. "Fine. Why are you here?"

I replied, "No comment."

This frustrated him. He pressed the gun to my forehead, and growled, "Then I have no reason to keep you alive." I closed my eyes, ready to die like this. I didn't want to survive and have to go through the pain of explaining myself later. It was funny- being killed by someone younger than you.

"Actually, you do." I glanced upwards and looked to the source of the voice. There was a new set of people emerging from the woods. Plainly dressed and lightly armed, they didn't seem like a major threat. However, the voice was all too familiar to me. The speaker was a tall man, twenty-five in age. He was rather lanky, but his stance was strong.

The fire illuminated his blond hair, though from experience, I knew it was truthfully brown. Shadows danced across his face, a similar version of the Vargas Brother's. Similar to mine.

Rodger glared at the new-comer. "Why is that?" he snarled, unhappy about being interrupted as such.

"The Kid's on my side." There was only one person in the world who would call me 'Kid'. David Veneto Henson, my older brother.

The other man growled. "How is that David?"

David smiled. "The Kid's my sister. I doubt Abigale would be too happy if you kill her stepdaughter." You could feel the atmosphere drop dangerously. Rodger and his men, knowing that I was a slightly important person. Ivan, Sadiq, Alfred, and Matthias, realizing that I was not on their side. The pressure nearly killed me.

Rodger released me, but I didn't move. How could I? My ankle was broken. David walked up to me and knelt to my height. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern. He eyed my ankle and the open jacket. He could clearly see the skank outfit I was wearing.

I scowled. "I was doing fine without you," I snapped.

Another man from the Henson group stepped forward. He was a shorter man, but strongly built. His cherry-blond hair was curly and stuck to his head. A pair of big, round glasses rested on his nose. "Hi Annie!" he called, striding up to us. "I haven't seen you since the camp!"

This man was James Fisher. You know, the guy I was stuck with at POW camp? "W-what are you doing here?" I stuttered. He should be back in Germany! When did he escape?

James smiled. "Recently. I was released in a hostage exchange earlier this month." He snickered. "Right on Pearl Harbor." Prisoner exchange on Pearl Harbor? Oh dear God, damn it Arthur! He flashed me a smile. "So Annie, what are _you _doing here?"

I fabricated a lie in my head. "I was performing reconnaissance," I stated. "Dad sent me to find out whether or not a German military official was a HETA." I met Sadiq's eyes. He glared at me, not shocked, but rather with hatred. "And I conclude that they are as human as they get." I wasn't just about to betray them yet.

David scoffed. "Annie, I can tell when you're lying." He stared me down and I broke my still disapproving gaze with Sadiq. We were at it for a good minute or so. "Are you betraying us?" he whispered, too soft for anyone but me to hear.

Just as quietly, I replied, "How can I betray you if I was never on your side in the first place?" David slapped me. Hard. My face stung for minutes afterwards and there was a red hand mark on my right cheek.

My brother stood, brushing the sticking snow off his coat. "Rodger, take the HETAs onto the ship. I want to get out of here before the rest of them awake."

James and Rodger looked at him crazy. "We're just going to leave them here?" Rodger demanded, motioning to the pile of dead bodies. "This is the chance of a life tim-"

David grabbed the man's throat. "I said we're leaving them here, Parker." The other man whimpered in agreement and he and his men started to push the countries away. I looked at them with pity. Why were Alfred and Ivan going away so quietly? Surely they could easily break their bounds and take all of them down.

"_What if they're still trying to appear human?" _The thought was crazy and I could find no reason behind it. Yet it was the only explanation I had. My attention was drawn back to my brother. As James ushered the Henson men to go back to the cars, David attempted to pick me up. I punched him square in the jaw.

It felt good, just to lash out on someone. He stumbled back a few paces. "Dannazione Annie!" He swore in Italian. "What was that for?"

"That?" I laughed cruelly, enjoying the pain I was causing. "That was for ruining everything."

"Ruining?" He spat in disbelief. "Ruining what? Your chance at glory? Revenge?" He paused in sudden realization. "Kid, don't tell me. You. . ." He roughly gripped my collar and yanked me forward. There was barely a foot between our faces. "You're an idiot," David growled, eyes filled with sheer anger. "Letting yourself get wrapped up like that. Do you understand how dangerous that was? What you could had done?" He slapped me again. "Sei così stupido! Did you believe that they cared for you? That they loved you? Did you fall in love with them? See them as family?"  
>I spat in his face. "Fake or not they were a much better family to me than you ever were!" I didn't need to lie there. That was true. Everyone, Elizaveta, Kiku, Feli- Goddamnit, even Ludwig -treated me much better than my brother before me was now.<p>

David stared at me long and hard for a moment. He made no move to wipe away the saliva dripping down his face. Suddenly, he grabbed my hair and pulled my head to the ground. The snow crunched at the weight and the coldness numbed my skin. However, I still felt David roughly grab my left ear. He pulled out a dagger and cut it clean off.

I screamed in pain. My hands fumbled to press against wound, hoping to stop the agonizing feeling. The warm, red blood filled my ear hole and spilled down my head thickly. I started crying, not for the pain, but for the events of the day. I had gone from being as happy as can be, to finding out that I am the root cause for everyone's death. And now my shit of a brother has cut off my freaking ear.

In my moments of distraction, I didn't notice David picking me up bridle style and carrying me away. He cradled me close to his chest, cooing apologies in Italian. I did nothing to stop him. I felt defeated, stupid to even think that I could overcome my family's will. It was a never ending cycle. Soon I would be back to being defiant, just to be burnt down again.

He carried me to a group of black cars. James was ordering the Parker men to shove the countries into the back seats. James climbed in afterwards and David was quick to follow. The inside of the car was double seated, thus Ivan, Sadiq, Alfred, and Matthias sat across from James, David, and I.

I kept my face buried in my brother's chest. I didn't want to look at the countries. All I would see is hate. Something pinched my arm and I felt myself calm, then sleep.

* * *

><p>David removed the needle from Annie's arm, seeing the sedation take action and remove her consciousness. His blue eyes were hard, yet filled with concern- almost as if it pained him to look at his younger sister. His friend James looked at him curiously. "Why did you do that?" he asked.<p>

The other shook his head. "I did it again," he said, blond hair waving along with him. "I lost my temper and then-" He peeled her hand away from what used to be her ear. James gasped at the blood. "I. . . damnit."

Alfred and Matthias leaned forward, trying to get a good look. Ivan looked out the window wistfully, as if lost in his own world. Sadiq was leaning into his seat, refusing to meet the human's eyes. Alfred's eyes went wide at the blood. "What the hell did you do?" he demanded.

David was silent for a moment. "I. . ." He struggled to find the words to describe it. "I wouldn't expect you to understand." How could he? It took him years to figure it out. How could he condense it into a few simple sentences?

"You're sick," Matthias spat before leaning back into his seat. His blond companion didn't move, still gazing at the gushing wound.

David placed Annie's hand back in place and reapplied the pressure. They sat in silence for a long time. Snow fell from the clouds and onto the car windows. Their breaths fogged it when they tried to look out, leaving them all trapped with each other.

The countries were just expecting the humans to shoot them in the head at any moment. James and David were ignoring them all together. They seemed oblivious to the static between the sides. "I hate my hair," David complained, running his fingers through his blond locks.

James tauntingly ruffled it as well. "Well it ain't your fault you had to bleach it," he pointed out.

The Italian brushed him away. His thin lips were drawn in a pout. "Yeah but-" his hand went back to his hair "-it just looks so British!"

"And what's wrong with being British?"

"Italians are much better. Those Brits live to work. But Italians, we work to live." David sighed and got a proud smile on his face, lost in his memories of his home country. "Everything is so much better there. The food, air, sun-"

James huffed, "Ladies."

"Especially the ladies. Just face it; all the best lovers come from Italy."

The conversation really was pointless, but there was something about it that caused Sadiq to snap. He kicked the spot next to James's head and yelled, "What the hell are you doing?" His green eyes were crazy with rage. "If you're going to kill us then do it now!"

James and David exchanged looks, a silent conversation. James was skeptical where as David was telling him to just go ahead with whatever their plan is. David was the winner. The other man sighed and pulled out his pistol. Alfred and Matthias jumped and leaned further back in their seats.

However, James shifted to the edge of his seat. "Driver, mind stopping the car? We have a flat tire." The car pulled over and stopped. Ivan glanced away from the window. The tires were fine, so what were they doing? James leaned back and looked at David nonchalantly. "David," he said in a mocking tone. "Do you know what would stink?"

David pretended to think about it. "I don't know," he said in a similar manner. "What James?"

"If the HETAs escaped." The cherry blond laughed. "That would cause a lot of trouble for us." Ivan and Alfred exchanged a look- what? What angle were these two going for?  
>"Oh yes, that would be troublesome." David placed a hand on his chin in thought. "Though it is very likely."<p>

"How?"

He pointed to Ivan and Alfred, saying, "Those two already broke out of their bonds." The countries exchanged looks. Their captors knew they broke their handcuffs earlier? Reluctantly, they removed their hands from the cuffs and showed them in plain view. David stared at Alfred for a few seconds, daring him to attack.

The blond did just that. He lunged to the Italian, ready to punch him. Someone grabbed him and pushed him back. Ivan. The American looked at him in shock and confusion. He mustered, "Why did you-?"

The country rolled him eyes, explaining, "Now think for a second. Why have they let us live for so long?" Alfred's eyes widened in realization. Something landed on his lap: a chain of keys thrown by James.

David placed his chin on his hand, crossing his legs. "Now here is a deal." His voice was no longer mocking, but a strange seriousness. "If the HETAs promise me two things, then I would freely let them go."

Sadiq leaned forward. "I'm listening." James idly fiddled with his gun, pretending not to listen.

The bleached hair man pet his sister affectionately, preoccupied for a second. Matthias looked at this oddly, wondering what he was doing. David looked up suddenly. "You must never approach my sister again. The kid's going back with me and never hearing from you or anyone from your kind again."

Ivan and Sadiq exchanged glances. That was it? Just leave Annie alone? That's all? They didn't understood way, but they really didn't care. Alfred scoffed. "That's all?" he asked. "Just leave her alone?"

David shook his head. "And you must punch me in the fac-" Both Alfred's and Sadiq's fist made contact with his jaw. He cursed and clutched the hurting area. Once again, another strange request that only Ivan seemed to understand.

James opened the car door. "Go." He ordered. The countries piled out, Matthias and Sadiq unlocking their bounds with the keys. "Run. Now." They dashed off, back down the icy road to Finland's house. They had to tell the other nations of what happened.

Ivan was the only one who lingered. "Why?" he asked, tilting his head to the side like a confused dog. James was unsettled by this. He didn't expect the creepiest- no, any -of the HETAs to care so much. The Russian should be grateful that he was getting the chance of running away.

The Irishman hesitated. Should he tell him? "David he. . ." James shrugged. "He just loves his sister." He closed the car door and the driver started the car again. Ivan watched the black car speed down the dark road.

"He just loves his sister?" Ivan repeated the words, as if convinced that saying it aloud would make it logical. In a way, the nation did understand. He turned and ran after his comrades, keeping his suspicions to himself.

* * *

><p><strong>December 25, 1941<strong>

**The Henson Family Boat; Leaving Finland.**

When I woke-up, the world around me smelled of anesthetics and soap. It made me feel as though I was in a hospital. By my injuries, that was very possible. And very likely. I heard someone breathing. Not directly in my ear like some pervert, but as though they are hard at work. I felt something on my leg, but my own body had a gross numb feeling. I opened my eyes.

The world around me was bright. It took me a moment to realize that it was coming from a lamp directly over my head. I squinted, trying to find something that I could identify. I was in a clinic, lying on a cold bed. There were clean cabinets filled with medical supplies on every wall and no windows. In the distance, I smelled the ocean. Stiffly, I tried to sit up.

"Please don't move." The voice was curt and polite. I froze and saw the source was also the source of the breathing. It was a man, in his late twenties, wearing a white doctor's coat. He sat on a stool, applying some liquid to the burns on my legs. His hair reminded me of Ludwig's in the fact it was slicked back with a lot of grease, though his was black, not blond. Sitting comfortably on the doctor's nose were rectangular glasses.

I stared at him for a second, feeling another headache come on. My ankle had a cast on it where as my arms already had its burns treated. I was still in the skank outfit, but I could see Ivan's coat hanging on a hook in the corner. Ivan. What happened? I looked at the doctor. He was still steadily working away at my leg, trying to be as gentle as he could. I found this odd, though somehow he seemed very familiar to me. "Who are you?" I asked. It's like I always say: when in doubt, be blunt.

The doctor looked up at me. He placed cotton ball down and looked at me. "I am Doctor Walter Alwin," he introduced. Everything in his voice suggested sternness.

I stared at him, gaping like an idiot. He was . . .my fiancé! I started to twiddle with my fingers, suddenly feeling very nervous. "I-I" My words were stuttered. Great, I couldn't even introduced myself to the guy I was going to marry.

Walter looked up at me. "I know who you are Annabel," he said simply, returning back to his work. "And it's a pleasure to finally meet you." He raised a slightly thick eyebrow and smirked. "I've heard a heck of a lot of stories."

I laughed nervously. "None of them good I suppose." He shrugged, but didn't reply. It was silent as I watch him pick up his pace with my treatment. After wiping whatever the liquid was on my leg, he stood and went to grab some white bandages from a drawer. I hummed softly to myself. "Well, this is awkward," I said out of nowhere.

He nodded, returning to his spot. "Very." Okay, not much for conversation I guess. He started to wrap up my leg. I looked away. It's one thing to have a doctor touch your leg and another to have the guy you should be marrying to do so. Walter caught my adverted gaze. "No worry," he said. "This is a lot more awkward for me than it is for you."

I scoffed. "Really? Mind telling me how?" The disbelief in my voice was plain.

The man finished wrapping my leg and gave a small smile in triumph. "Because, not only did I have to touch my future wife's legs, but while she was unconscious, I had to patch up the rest of her." He eyed my outfit. "While she was wearing a skank outfit."

That caused me to scowl. "Well, for all I know, you've been sexually harassing me in return."

Walter took off his plastic gloves and threw them away. "What do you think I am?" he demanded. "French?"

I laughed. "Well doesn't your family own a few hospitals in France?"

He smiled and approached me. By the look in his eyes, he was about to do something mischievous. He placed his hands on the table and leaned into me, so that our faces were close. "Ohonhonhon~!" He laughed mock-fully. I snickered- his French laugh sounded funny. "Annabel, why don't we play doctor?" he asked, having the perfect French accent. "It will be fun, non?"

My hand flew to my mouth as I tried to stifle a laugh. Oh God. Walter pouted when I didn't say anything. He moved away and stuffed his hands into his pocket. "Fine. What kind of woman are you if you can't take a French accent seriously?"

I frowned, remebring Francis and the other nations. Ivan, Alfred, Sadiq, and Matthias; what happened to them? Are they here, wherever here was? I gulped before asking, "What happened?"

Walter frowned as well. He sat back down on his stool and placed his chin on his hand. The American was lost in thought as he tried to figure out how to answer my question. His pondering gave me a sick feeling in my gut. "Well. . ." He took off his glasses and rubbed his green eyes. "How do I tell you?" He must also have the blunt rule, since his next words were clear and straight to the point. "The HETAs that your brother captured, they attacked him and he was force to kill them and leave their bodies behind."

I gasped and felt tears automatically come to my eyes. "No. . ."I whispered. They were dead? I shook my head furiously, repeating that single word over and over again. That's it. I lost everyone. People whom I barely knew yet felt a love for were dead. Because of me. They died because of me. My face was cupped in Walter's hands.

"Annabel," he said eyes full of concern. "It's alright. . ." he struggled to find a reason why. "They're HETAs right? So in theory they can't die."

"No." My voice was hoarse. My teary eyes met his. "They weren't HETAs." There was a look in his face that I couldn't place. Confusion? Triumph? But then it came to me. "But Walter you. . .you already knew that."

He didn't release my face, though he did look away. I sat there sniffling as he bit his lip, gathering his thoughts. "I never believed that HETAs existed," he said at last. Really? All that build up for something as lame as that? "The idea, it's just. . .ludicrous." I sniffled and wiping the tears from my face. Walter wrapped me up in a hug, cooing relaxing tones into my ear. "I'm so sorry," he said, gripping me tighter. "Just know that it wasn't your fault. You are not to blame."

I wish I could believe him, but I didn't have the courage to push the blame off of me. It was my fault. I tried to find a treasured memory, but there was none. I wanted to run for my life, but I couldn't. I wanted to turn the corner and find a sleeping man on the ground. But there never was going to be.

That day was Christmas, and that day I only wanted one thing from St. Nicholas. Reverse time. To the night I had a treasured memory. To the time I was running for my life. To when I did find Feliciano Vargas sleeping on the ground. Maybe if I went back, I could change it all. Maybe I could save a few lives.

At that one moment of my life, I had no identity. I started as someone sure of what was white and black. Then someone who could only see shades of gray. But now, I couldn't even tell which color was which. I was color blind, able to see everything except what I really needed- just one color.

But I could only do one thing.

Cry.

* * *

><p><strong>SEK<strong>: Dear God **MW**! The readers are going to kill you!

**MW**: *tears up* Does that mean I get no fan art?

**SEK**: *face palm* Don't guilt your readers, it's not nice.

**MW**: But we guilt them into reviewing when we claimed I killed **BFTL**!

**SEK**: You idiot! That's because we did kill her! And now we have to hire a lawyer so that we can win the trial.

**MW**: And let me guess, in the A/N alternate universe, the currency is reviews.

**SEK**: Basically, so review so that we can hire a lawyer.

**Fun facts and Translations**

"Gut" Good. German.

"Möchten Sie mir, Ihnen zu entstellen?" Do you want me to disfigure you? German.

"Vuoi che mi spacco il tuo collo bastardo?" Do you want me to slit your neck bastard? Italian.

"Non ucciderlo! Si prega di non ucciderlo!" Don't kill him! Please do not kill him! Italian.

"Dannazione" Damnit. Italian.

"Sei così stupido!" You're so stupid! Italian.

**Next Chapter:** Time passes.

**Remember to Review!**


	12. Being Stalked By Italians

***MW** and **SEK** jumps through a window just as a random building explodes behind them and starts to run*

**SEK**: **MW**! Do you have it?

**MW**: *holds up chapter* Yes! Man, this one was a heada-

**SEK**: Can we stop running now? I still have asthma you know!

**MW**: Yeah sure. *Scenery changes to normal A/N background* As I was saying, this was a headache chapter since I pretty much had to reintroduce my characters. Not fun. But you all are probably wondering, "Why did it take so long to update?" Well the rough draft was stolen by an evil queen-

**SEK**: *hits with tennis racket* Stop telling them lies! The real reason was that her school's drama production came up and she lost whatever free time she had to extra rehearsals.

**MW**: Yeah. . . It's not a wonderful life, George Bailey!

**SEK**: -_- Review and ask her to explain that reference

**Summary**: In which Lovi goes Mafia on a couple of thugs

**Warnings**: Language, Violence, References to Playboy countries

**Disclaimer**: During my absence, I did not receive the rights for Hetalia, so you still have to support the official release. BFTL did, she preordered "Paint it White".

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 12~<strong>

**Being Stalked By Italians is a Daily Past time **

* * *

><p><strong>March 17, 1944<strong>

**3 Years Later**

It was the normal weather for March: cold and rainy. The last part has yet to be achieved, but the dark clouds looming over London was a sure sign of a downpour to come. Thank goodness I had brought my umbrella. Rosa had told me that morning that it was suppose to clear up by late morning, but I could feel the cold in my ankle.

That was a funny fact; even though my ankle is completely healed now, it still aches considerably when cold weather comes. That and what used to be my left ear.

Subconsciously, a woman of twenty-six years of age places her hand on the left side of her hair. She sat at a cafe table with two other women, only haft listening to what they said. Anyone looking at her would not have seen anything wrong.

This woman was me.

The other women were the beautiful blonds that are Abigale and Rosa. My stepmother was now old, though still retaining her youthful beauty amongst her wrinkles. Her fat lips were drawn in a smile as Rosa chatted away about the cutest children she knew: Caroline and Edward. They are her children and my niece and nephew. They were with their Dad, Charles Bright (from the Connor family), making sure that their wedding outfits were tailored to perfection.

I rubbed my figure against the white banged on the hole in my head. I no longer had a left ear. Walter had one of his doctor friends fix up the wound so that there was nothing more than a hole to my eardrum at the side of my head. My hearing was damaged on that side, so it didn't matter that I always had a white gaze taped over it. Luckily, my long, shoulder length locks always covered the spot, leaving me with less instances of having to explain it to others.

"Annabel." The voice broke my train of thoughts. Abigale was giving me a stern look, silently scolding me for not paying attention. Even though I was in my late twenties, she still treated me like a rebellious kid.

I sighed and took a sip of my tea, letting it warm my body. "I'm listening," I said simply, doing my best not to aggravate her. Rosa smiled as Abigale continued to glare.

The woman took a sip of her own tea before returning to her state of fake kindness. Sometimes, I thought she was like a tiger: poised to strike at me at anytime. "I was just saying that if Caroline is going to be your flower girl, she has to slow down."

I should probably explain this to you. After officially knowing each other for three years, Walter and I were getting married. Exciting, right? I didn't mind it so much. I like the doctor; he kept me sane after losing my ear and memories.

That was another funny thing. There was a spot in my memories that was blank. I didn't even realize it until a February morning in 1941. I woke-up with a headache and David knocking at my door, demanding to be let in. "What is it?" I muttered, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

He pushed past me, saying, "What do you remember of Finland?"

"Finland?" Something about that country meant something to me. I could vaguely remember David cutting my ear off . . . but what else?

He griped my shoulders. "Yes Finland!" He practically shouted it and there was a panic in his voice. "The HETAs! Remember? You met them!"

I looked at him as if he was crazy- which he was. "What are you talking about?" I asked. Nowhere in my head did I recall ever meeting the monsters.

He groaned and released me. My brother spent a few moments taking deep breaths and thinking. "Alright, let's try this. Do you remember going to Germany?"

Me: "Yes."

"Why you were there?"

"To get the message from James."

"What happened exactly?"

"Well I escaped the POW camp and then. . . I think I hid somewhere for awhile . . . I don't remember where. . . "

"Did anyone help you?"

"I don't think so."

"Why where you in Finland?"

"I was hiding from the Gestapo."

"How did you get so injured then?"

". . . "

"Well?"

"I don't know."

David dragged me to Dad's office in a hope that our parent could jog my memories back. Dad listened carefully to my story, barely moving except to brush his graying blond cowlick from his face. His blue eyes never left me as I told of how I escaped from the POW camp and made my way to the Scandinavian area. "Are you sure?" he asked. "What about after that?"

I thought for a moment. "Walter patched me up and when we returned to London I yelled at you." That's right. Before heading to an actual hospital I came to Society Oil Works, Dad's company, and yelled at him. But even that memory was fogged at certain points.

He ordered, "Leave us David." The brother left without an objection. For a few moments, it was quiet as Dad started to set up a chess game on the table before us. "So Annie, what did you say to me?" Nothing in his voice indicated anger.

I thought for a moment. "I said that you promised me a month . . . to do something, but you didn't give me a month."

He asked, "Do you remember what?" I shook my head. Dad paused for moment, thinking. His eyes were wistful and gained a far off look. "It could be post traumatic stress," he said at last.

I scowled. "I'm not insane!" I snapped, rising to my feet.

Dad didn't flinch. Calmly, he said, "Annie, I wasn't implying that-"

Something with how calmly he was regarding the situation disturbed me. No, not disturbed, more like . . . reminded me of something. Or someone. I ignored it and yelled, "Well you're not throwing me into some insane house or-"

"Annabel!" Dad stole my attention. He spoke sternly but his voice never rose in volume. "Sit down," he ordered. I sat and listened intently to his rant. "Just because you don't remember doesn't mean I think you're crazy. The brain has an odd way with dealing with unpleasant experiences. Maybe you can't remember because if you did, the stress would be too much."

I was hunched in my chair, face buried in my hands. If what he said was true, then what was so unpleasant that could cause me to forget? Was I raped? Tortured? With hesitation, I asked, "But Dad what happened to me that cause me to forget?"

Dad was placed a hand on my shoulder. "It's best if you don't question it," he comforted. After a few minutes, he indicated to the chess board on the table. "Come now, let's play a game. Maybe you might be beat be this time.

Even though three years had passed since that day, I still remembered it clearly. I had lost that game, but that was typical. My father seemed to always be able to predict his opponents' movements with ease. Was it he could predict the future, or just knows people very well? I didn't know.

I twisted the engagement ring on my left hand. The ring had a gold band and the diamond was of a modest size, but I loved it. For the first few months following that day, I tried my best to find out what happened, but eventually realized that everyone around me was making sure I didn't discover that treasure.  
>Also, Walter started to make a point to talk to me every day. Whether it be a phone call or a lunch hour, he was always somewhere in my life, lurking in the corners of my mind. At first, it was annoying, but after awhile I grew used to it, even thankful. Especially that one time. . . . <p>

* * *

><p>It was April when my bandages on my arms and legs came off for good, revealing a horrible fact. Scars from my burns covered my arms and legs. They were faint, but still noticeable. In my twisted train of thoughts, I thought I would be a recluse and never associate myself with society ever again.<p>

That didn't happen. Even though I spent most of my days indoors, I was determined to finish school and become a nurse. If that meant walking around in long sleeved clothing all year long, then so be it. Even so, a positive outlook could not hide the fact that I felt shame for my markings.

It wasn't until one May evening did that change.

I was amidst my studies, sipping tea and hunched over a text book on the kitchen table, when there was a knock on the door. I answered it and Walter came strolling in. "Annie," He said, face looking stern as he came walking into the house. "We should go to dinner." He was blunt, like always.

I shook my head and returned to the kitchen to finish studying. "No."

Walter gave me a look I could not place. "Why not?" He asked. "The night is young and there are no Frenchies on the street." I glared at him. "Or do you like the Frenchies? In that case-" he switched over to his flawless French accent. "Why don't we enjoy some French wine ma ch-"

"No!" My voice was loud and final. "I'm not going out!"

He stared at me with his stern look. Even now, I wonder how someone who could make fun of the French always has this sternness to them. Walter promptly left the kitchen and I thought he was gone for good. "You have a beautiful dress," Walter called, walking back in with a black dress in hand. "And I saw some boots in there you can wear. I think you have no excuse not to go out." I was startled. He went through my closet?

I regained my frown. "I do have an excuse not to," I stated plainly, crossing my arms in a sign of stubbornness.

Walter placed the dress on the table before taking a seat beside me. "Is that so?" He asked, putting on the French accent again. "Why is that, ma Cher?"

Curtly, I replied, "I have to study."

He closed my book with a thud. "Your test isn't until the end of the week." I looked at him, thinking him to be a stalker, and he shrugged. "My hospital works hand in hand with your school, remember?" No, I actually didn't. His dark eyes spoke of triumph. "So, what's the real reason for not wanting to go out?"

I looked down uncomfortably and pointed at the outfit in his hands. "That dress shows my arms and legs," I said nervously, not knowing exactly why I was telling him this. He gave me a look of confusion. Hesitantly, I added, "You can see my scars."

"And how is that a bad thing?"

"Because. . ." A fire ignited in me and I snapped, "Because a girl covered with ugly ass scars isn't pretty and every one's going to stare and tell you to stay away and you'll believe them and-" Walter reached over and placed a finger over my lips. I hushed, wondering where all that came from. I didn't even believe half of it to be true.

"That does not affect who you are," he said. "And most people marry for a love of the other's personality, right?"

"What about everyo-"

"Well if everyone else refuses to look at you, then at least I'll have you all to myself."

He smirked at me as I started at him blankly. "Are you sure you're not French?" I asked, ignoring the touching moment he was trying for.

Walter nodded, sure that he won. "Now come to din-"

"No." He stared at me hard for a moment before deciding his next move. The doctor went to my cabinets and stared to take out ingredients. I tried to ignore him and continue with my studying, but the curiosity killed me. "Walter, what are you doing?" I asked.

The man had found my pasta stash and was getting a fire started on the stove. "If you're not going out then we'll eat here." I had to admire his stubbornness. I noticed that he only had water boiling. Without a word, I started to gather ingredients for a sauce.

Working together, we had a fairly decent meal prepared. Walter insisted on helping me with the sauce, though it soon came to light that he could not cook. "What made you think I could cook?" he asked when we were twirling our spaghetti around our forks.

"Well you started to cook, so I presumed that you could!" I snapped back before shoving the food into my mouth.

"Annie, Annie," the grease head shook his head at me is disgust. "Never presume anything about anyone."

I huffed. "Why is that?"

"Presuming leads to misunderstandings and misunderstandings lead to trouble and loneliness." I paused and look up at him. His words had been curt and straight to the point. It didn't seem to bother him that I was staring. An eyebrow peaked over his glasses. "Is something wrong?"

My fork was placed loudly onto my plate. I hadn't meant to do that, but in the thick silence that drenched us, even my breathing made too much noise. "Presume something," I said at last. He looked at me oddly. "Presume something about me."

Walter took a second to think over my motives, but none the less gave me an answer. "I'm presuming that you feel hopeless right now- not knowing what happened back there. And I believe that you should presume that nothing that happened there was your fault, that you did nothing wrong." It was silent.

Still silent.

When will the silence end?

Perhaps when I admitted to myself that his words were exactly the feelings that were swirling in my heart. I mean, why else would Dad, David, and everyone else try so hard to keep my memories from me?

"Thank you," my voice was hoarse. I didn't know what made me say that, but I was suddenly grateful for this man's presence. I didn't even know if he knew what he presumed was true, but there was a ring in his words that were soothing, quelling the harsh vibes in my body. "Thank you for coming."

Walter retained his stern look, but still found a way to smile warmly at me. He raised his wine glass towards me. "We should do this again sometime."

I raised my glass to him as well. "Agreed."

* * *

><p>Okay, that was a beautiful lovey-dovey scene but really, I need to get back to what was going on at the cafe. If I am right, we covered basically everything you need to know in order to make sense of this new arc. I was going to marry Walter, I forgot most of the events of 1941, and everyone around me is keeping a secret that I have given up on guessing.<br>I smiled softly at Abigale. "Ma'am, perhaps you should tell Caroline to slow down or else she'll scare the fairies," I suggested, referring to our little wedding dilemma.  
>Rosa smiled, red painted lips complimenting her blond locks. "Oh Annie, that will work!" My stepsister was obviously overreacting, but it was necessary. If she didn't, then the scowling Abigale would criticize me for 'telling my niece lies'.<br>Which is exactly what she did. "Rosa," she said, gaining a stern tone. "It will not be wise to feed Caroline such nonsense."  
>Her daughter pouted, moaning "Aw Mum" before countering the woman's beliefs. This was also routine and rather belabored. I tuned them out and opened my newspaper. Today had the latest news on the Russian invasion on Ukraine.<br>That was another funny fact. After admitting my memories were screwed-up, I started to take an interest on world affairs. Daily, I would read history books and the newspapers. Occasionally, I would laugh about the most serious facts. For example, this invasion was funny since I had an image of a tall man sexually harassing a large breasted woman in my head. I had no idea where the humor laid, but it was there.  
>"Mine if I steal you for a bit?" I lowered the paper and saw Walter standing by my chair. He wore a brown suit that usually went under his white doctor coat. Like always, his hair was perfectly greased back. He smiled softly at me, a huge accomplishment compared to his usual sternness.<p>

I raised an eyebrow at his attempt to flirt with me. "No," I said, rising from my seat to join him. "Don't even try."

He frowned. "Why not?" he asked. "Most people flirt with each other when they're engaged."

Abigale broke off from her friendly argument with Rosa and greeted my fiancé. "Where are you two going?" she asked critically. What did she think I was going to do? Kill the man?

Walter didn't falter (hey, that rhymed!). He once again took on his French accent. "Ma Cher, we are going to walk about the town and see the romantic sights of l'amour~" I stifled a laugh and he patted me on the back, as if to say 'Keep yourself together girl.'

My stepmother gave a 'humph' and took another sip of tea. "Alright." Her green eyes pierced right through me. "Just remember that you have your reception party on Saturday." That was British Mannerism for 'If you two decide to spend a few nights together, look presentable in front of your guest'.

I scowled. "Fine." I hooked my arm with Walter's and waved goodbye, calling out mockingly, "By Abigale~" Rosa giggled as the other turned a deep shade of angry red. She hates it when I call her that, insisting that I stick to 'Ma'am'.

The London streets were busy with everyday life or as everyday as war time can get. Even though the bombing were long gone, there was still a fretting feeling among the citizens. Walter led me down the streets in a happy atmosphere, starting the conversation right off on how much he hated Abigale.

You got to love him.

No! I didn't mean it like that! What I meant was that I liked the guy for the relaxing qualities he has. He was more of a friend to me than I future husband. How could he be anything more? I was being forced to marry him! That really does kill any chances there was of having true feelings for him.  
>I looked up at the taller man. "So Walter, what are you doing outside the hospital?" It was a logical question- he worked late hours and only got an hour for lunch, which isn't until later in the day.<br>"It's quite simple really: I'm calling in sick." He spoke with bluntness and regarded the prospect simply, but I knew it was a big deal. If you knew him as long as I had, you would gain a true meaning of dedication to your job.  
>I playfully punched his shoulder. "Isn't that rather evil of you, Doctor Grease Head?" I asked, knowing quiet well that he was going to take my actions as flirtation.<br>But he didn't. Instead, Walter looked down at me. "Doctor Grease Head?" he asked, confused. "That's a new one."  
>"No it isn't," the words slipped out of my mouth without me thinking. "I've called you it before."<br>He shook his head. "No, you never have." That when I realized something: I've called someone 'Commander Grease Head' before. Who? I had no idea. I could tell it was there, but unreachable. Like a Pandora's box waiting to be opened.  
>I pressed my lips together. "Yes I have," I insisted. "The grease must be messing with your head." Our conversation continued on in a casual manner.<p>

* * *

><p>"Vee~! This is fun~!" Italy cooed, walking at a slightly faster pace than his elder brother. That Italian retained his youthful facade over the years, the only difference in his appearance being the casual clothes he sported. Romano trailed behind him, growling about how he was making a scene.<p>

It wasn't his fault he was stuck with the idiot for the day; it was just how things turned out. Last September, they had surrendered to the Allies. Italy was reluctant and scared, but at the urging of his brother he agreed. It wasn't easy; over the past years Germany and Japan had changed.

Japan seemed to be stuck in his Feudal state, attacking his once good friend, America, without batting an eyelid. Germany, on the other hand, was taking on some of his boss's ideals, always huffing about his Aryan race. When the brothers announced their surrender, Germany attacked them straight on, almost determined to kill them flat out.

Both escaped with their lives, but Italy really hadn't been the same since. He smiled, ate, and had his siestas like he always did. However, there was sadness to him. Who could blame him? His lover had tried to kill him. _"Serves him right,"_ Romano thought. _"I told him to leave that damn Potato Bastard years ago."_

So that brought them to how they were freely wandering the London streets. Their homeland was occupied by Allied forces and they were constantly being shipped off from one Allied country's house to another. This time, it just happened to be Britain.

Like usual, the blond was boring, constantly doing British things. Romano had told Italy not to annoy him, but the Italian's stomach had gotten the better of him and soon enough he was complaining about how bad the cooking was. "Why don't you look around London for a bit?" Britain had suggested, ushering him out of his office. "Go find a few ladies and have some fun."

Romano had scowled. "Are you trying to fucking get rid of us?" he demanded, resisting the other country.

"Yes." Leave it to Britain to be blunt. "Just be back in time for the World Conference." That was right; they had a conference next week.

It was being held in Switzerland without their boss' knowledge. The purpose of the meeting was to talk about whether or not they should ignore the decisions of their respective country's leaders and end the war. A lot of neutral and Axis countries didn't want to go, but a certain Swiss and Russian threatened to kill them if they did. This meant that everyone, even Germany, was going to be there.

"Romano?" Said brother drew his attention back to Italy.

He gave an inaudible sigh. "What?"

With a hopeful look, "Can we find some girl to flirt with?"

Romano groaned. "It's your damn choice Veneziano! Do whatever the hell you want." The other grew excited and started to hunt a woman down with his eyes. He was glad Italy's back was to him- he didn't want the younger brother to see the melancholy look in his eyes. _"You better,"_ he order silently. "_You wouldn't be so happy when you see that Damn Potato Bastard again._"

". . . and so Austria won the war." I took a deep breath, glad that the rant was finally over. I wasn't even sure why, but something we were talking about caused me to check off every event of the War of the Austrian Succession to Walter. We were able to walk down a few blocks during the time and the man's attention was completely on me, never phasing out, always nodding and asking me questions. I wondered how he was able to put up with it, but I didn't bother to ask.  
>Walter ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it back again. "That was amazing." He sounded legitimately impressed. "I suppose the Prussians weren't too happy about that."<br>I smiled, saying, "He probably didn't think it was too awesome."  
>He gave me a 'what the hell' look. "Awesome?" he repeated. "Did they even have that word back then?"<br>"Um. . ." When I thought about it, I really had no idea why I thought the Prussians would think such a thing. The words just spilled out before I could stop them. Strange.  
>A red car pulled up to the sidewalk, so close to us that we couldn't help but to look. A window was rolled down and there was James at the driver's seat and David at the passenger's. They looked relatively joyful that they found us. "Hey Kid!" David greeted a goofy smiled played out upon his face. "What are you two doing?" His hair had grown out of the bleach and was back to its normal shade of mud brown, though he has let it grown past his ears in the most improper way.<br>I frowned and crossed my arms across my chest. "What does it look like we're doing?" I asked as Walter gave pleasant hellos. Damn, why did that guy have to be so nice?  
>David thought about it for a moment. It was one of those unnecessary, mocking actions. "Making violent love?" I groaned as James and Walter chuckled. David stepped out of the car and slung a careless arm around my fiancé's shoulder. "Can I borrow him for awhile?" he asked, already dragging Walter to the car. "We need to do some bachelor activities before he's tied down."<br>I sighed. "Do whatever you want, just don't kill him."  
>Walter forced a laugh. "I highly doubt that," he said, climbing into the back seat of the car. "But Annie, are you okay being left out here by yourself?" He looked at David. "Shouldn't we drive her back to her house first?"<br>From the front seat, James added, "He's right David. Her house is just a few blocks away; it'll be no trouble." My brother seemed convinced that I did need their help, but I just brush it aside.

"No, no. I'm fine." I flashed a confident smile. "I can still walk you know."

"See? She's alright." The brunette gained a mischievous look in his eyes before pushing Walter out of the car. Giving the man a little shove, "Go kiss your future wife first." Shit. I scowled at my brother and even Walter had a frown.

Fun Fact: The most lovey-dovey action Walter has committed were body consuming hugs. AKA: No lip-to-lip action.

Laughing out of nervousness, he awkwardly placed his hands on my shoulders and pecked me on the cheek. He jumped back into the vehicle and urged James to drive. Only when they had fully driven away did I admit to myself that the action wasn't so bad.

* * *

><p>Romano leaned against a nearby lamp post, arms crossed and head low. Italy was trying to scourge out a pretty girl in the crowds of passing people. That was one thing the brother didn't get: the crowd was filled with people either glaring at them for being Italian for eyeing them for being good looking. Why did Veneziano just choose one of them and get this over with? "Vee~! Grande Fratello! I see one!" Romano sighed and stood upright. His younger brother was jumping in excitement, pointing to a girl across the street from them. "Right there!" he exclaimed.<br>He looked at the girl. From a distance, this girl looked pretty Italian. Her hair was a decent length and she wore those plain pleated skirts British women were so fond of. She looked at a red car drive away before walking further down the street. "She's okay. Not enough chest for- Hey!" Romano started to comment before he noticed his brother was already crossing the street. He chased after him, catching his shoulder just as their feet touched the other side. "What the hell was that for Veneziano?" He demanded.  
>Italy pouted before saying, "I wanted to flirt with her."<br>Romano sighed. "Fratello. You cannot just wander off. . ." He trailed off. The girl was still walking, but her head was turned, staring at them. She looked so confused . . . and familiar. From a closer distance, he could tell that she really was Italian- save for her blue eyes -and had a face that mirrored the perfect Italian.  
>His own.<br>The girl turned away hastily and walked away faster, her skirt kicking up her calf, revealing scars. Wait, scars? Things started to add up in Romano's head._ "She's Italian, lives in England, looks like me, has scars, and is eager to get away from Veneziano and me."_ His eyes grew wide in realization. The name floated off his tongue and into the air: "Annie?"  
>Ital looked at him with dazed confusion. "Vee, who?"<br>The older one grabbed his shoulders and started to lead him after Annie's retreating figure. "That Annie girl," He said, struggling himself to remember everything he could about her. "You know- what hell was it? -Henson. That damn maid you and the Potato Bastard hired?"

"Annie~!" Italy sparked up upon remembering. "Let's say 'Ciao' to her-" He tried to run towards her, just to be held back.

"Don't," Romano ordered, growing serious. "Remember what she did?"

The question was rhetorical, yet he made an effort to answer. "Um, betrayed us and caused the huge explosion at Finland's house?"

"Yes."

Sadness seeped into his voice. "Vee~! But didn't Britain say that-"

"He did. Which is why I'm wondering why the hell she's here."

"So what are we going to do?"

Romano thought about it for a second. "Let's just follow her for now."

Great, not only did my brother kidnap my fiancé, but there are two strange Italians following me. As flattering as that may be, having a stalker is never a good thing. Occasionally I would glance behind me to check to see if they were still there. Every time I saw the oddly familiar stray curls bobbing after me. I considered asking a constable for help, but it occurred to me that they might be working for one of the families. It would either be the Connor or Parker family since we are still technically enemies. Dragging the police into our problem would only make things worse.

Then again, the smaller one didn't look too harmful. Maybe it was a coincidence. Or maybe it was a ploy to get me to let my guard down. I went with the latter and started to formulate a plan to be rid of them. Meanwhile, the looming clouds above us finally broke and a drizzle started.

I opened my umbrella and listened to the water gently pelting the cloth. The beat was relaxing; quelling my wrecked nerves. A few blocks from my house I saw an alley between two brick buildings. That was it. I would turn into the alley and gain an advantage point to jump them from. And if they walk right past me, at least I'll know they meant no harm.

The streets were empty save for the few hurrying home for cover. I turned into the alley and- "Watch it!" I stumbled back from the voice. Ow, that hurt. Who did I run into to? The last person on Earth I wanted to see.

Rodger Parker's face was drawn into a snarl as he glared back at me. The younger man had barely aged and I hadn't seen him in a long time, though I did have this strange memory of him threatening me with a knife for some reason. I knew it involved what happened in Finland but not much else. But he lives in America, why was he in Engl- that's right, my wedding. He's a guest.

"My apologies," I muttered, turning around to leave him. That bastard just ruined my plan and now I have to think of something else. However, when I turned I saw three unfamiliar men standing behind me. Luckily none of them were those Italians; however they still did look rather threatening.

My body tensed. I turned haft way back to Rodger and saw that there were another two men standing at each side. "Hello Annie, have you been doing well?" he asked. There was a dangerous tone to his voice. I didn't reply, only glared at him. Any idiot could tell that he meant trouble. He continued, his voice turning from strong in confidence to a low growl. "You know, you and your brother have been nothing but a pain in my ass. You humiliated me in front of the whole family. And for what? You to conveniently lose your memories?"

"_I'm being jumped,_" I realized, raising my hands up to a defensive position as I gave a careless shrugged. "Eh, pretty much." Hey, if I was going to get my ass kicked then I might as well do it with sarcasm. This didn't play well with him as a man behind me threw the first punch. I did well enough to duck under it but three more hits made contact with my back. Grimacing, I folded my umbrella and shoved it into one man's face.

I aimed for his eye, but only scraped the edge of his nose. A strong arm shot out and grabbed the umbrella. He pulled me forward and I fell to the ground. I yelped in pain and kicked one man in the gut before scrambling back to my feet. It didn't hit as hard as it could have since my skirt was restricting my movements.

I still did taunt: "What's this? Being beaten by a girl?" Before I was forced to dodged and punched again. The drizzle turned into rain and it pelted out skins in an unforgivable manner. More fists made contact with my body, each one making it harder to fight. I may have started out well, but the fact is I was too out numbered. A knee made contact with my gut and my knees gave out.

Collapsing into a puddle, I tried to fill my empty lungs back with air. Defeated, the only thing left for me now was bear the pain that was sure to come. Rodger stepped in front of me, grinning madly. His blond hair stuck to his forehead from the rain and oddly enough, I felt as though something similar has happened to me before.

But at that moment, reminiscing was the last on my mind. The first was the switchblade Rodger flicked opened. "_He's going to kill me." _ I stared him straight in the eye as the blade was driven towards my face . . . and stopped.

In my moment of dramatic stare-downs, I didn't notice two men collapsing at both sides of Rodger. A dark hand reached out and gripped his arm not a foot from my face.

Standing at my defense was the one of the Italians I saw earlier, glaring down his opponent with no mercy. In one swift motion, he jammed his elbow into Rodger's face and swept a free leg under his feet. Rodger fell to the ground, blood pouring from his nose.

The much larger men came up to fight him. They were all brawnier than the Italian and there was no way he could take them on. The Italian however, only laughed. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, sounding very intimidating. "Do you really think you can take on the Italian mafia?" Mafia? I'm saved. The men physically reeled back, giving each other hesitant looks that read 'you take him on'. This guy did it- he scared everyone out of fighting. Amazing.

However, my victory was not long lived.

"Grande Fratello~?" A childish voiced called out, "Are you alright~?" From the Italian meaning 'brother', I would presume this was the harmless one I saw earlier. He was behind the other men, far from our view. Still the brother wheeled around in concern, searching for him. Then, a man got an idea. He grabbed the younger brother and held him against his chest. An arm was over the light brunette's neck, threatening to choke him at any given time.

The younger brother large eyes that watered in fear as he started to beg, "Don't kill me! I have a cousin in Wales!" It was heart breaking to see a grown man cry.

Rodger's me gained back their confidence and started to taunt the elder brother, saying things such as "He'll be a lot quieter with a broken neck" or "Two pussy brothers, how cute". Fun fact about British men: they are really bad at mocking people who are not either French or American. This didn't matter to the older brother as he gained a looked that read of sheer homicide.

"What the hell is this?" Even though I could not see the speaker, I knew whose voice that was. The one and only Patrick Henson. Also known as my Dad. If he ever found out I was here. . .

I grabbed the elder Italian's hand. "Corsa!" I urged, dragging him further down the alley and the brick corner. He budged at the sound of me speaking Italian, but the moment he realized that we were running away, he started to fight me.

"Lasciami andare!" He screamed, fighting my grasp as we escape in the labyrinth of alleys and deserted street corners. We were nearing my house, but I still kept on running. It was hard- my ankle was still aching, my body hurt all over, and I was in a skirt. "Lasciami andare!" He screamed again. "Lasciami andare, Annie!"

I stopped dead on my feet and he crashed into my back. I grabbed his shirt collar and banged him against the nearest building. "How do you know my name?" I demanded, suddenly wishing I didn't save this guy's ass.

The Italian looked at me with sheer confusion. "You can't be fucking serious," he snapped in return. "Of course I know who the hell you are!"

I pressed him harder against the wall. "How?"

"You're serious?" He took my glare as a yes. "The damn potato bastard had you as the damn maid. Remember?" More glaring. The Italian looked as though he was at a lost. "I'm Lovino Vargas! The Southern Half of Italy! Remember?"

Something about his name was familiar. It rang in my ears and my brain was scrambling to find out why. And what the hell did he meant by 'the Southern Half of Italy'? Slowly, my grip loosened. I took a deep breath, gaining control of my temper once again. "Look," My voice was soft and volatile. "I have no idea who you are or why you helped me, but thank you."

I started to walk away from a still very shocked Lovino.

I never expected to see him again.

* * *

><p><strong>March 18, 1944<strong>

**My House**

However, I was not so lucky. The next day, I woke-up with a killer pain in my body. I haven't felt this way since my days fighting for money. It was almost nostalgic. Even though I would render myself in need of a day off, I needed to return to work. Finally out of medical school, I've been working as a nurse for over a year. It was at the same hospital Walter practically owned.

Grimacing, I moved about my house slowly, aware of the dark purple bruises spotting my body. My home was a cozy two story town house. The first floor had a living room, kitchen, and foyer. My room, guest bedroom, and bathrooms were on the second floor. I didn't automatically start my day thinking about Lovino Vargas, but my trail of thought brought me to think about it.

When I had returned home, the most grief I received was a phone call from Dad, telling me that some serious progress involving the HETAs had occurred. I was only half listening- my attention was spent peeking outside my window, making sure I wasn't being followed.

"_I wonder if his brother got out okay," _I thought as I finished drinking the remainder of my tea. I sighed and pulled my boots on. It was raining today, making me sport a heavy green coat and other winter clothes. That was lucky of me- now I wouldn't have to explain my bruises to Walter when I see him today. In my usual routine, I checked my reflection in the foyer mirror. I looked decent and presentable, however. . .

A hand reached out and touched my reflection's cheek. "_I look a lot like Lovino." _I shudder. "_This is getting weird._" But the weirdness was far from over.  
>I opened my front door and took one step into the rain.<br>"Thank God. Why the hell didn't you come out sooner?" I paused. Leaning against the wall by my door was a soaking wet Lovino Vargas. He must have been here since yesterday, wearing the same white shirt he fought in the alley with. His dark hair brushed over his glaring eyes.  
>I dropped my umbrella in shock. "W-what the hell are you doing here?" I stuttered, tempted to just run back inside and call the police.<br>He rolled his eyes. "You're serious asking me that Annie?" He dug his hands into his pockets and casually walked into my house. "Come on!" He urged, not minding the fact that I hadn't even invited him in. "You're going to freeze out there bitch."

Should I? Common sense told me he was a rapist or some other criminal and that I should run away from this awful scene. But another voice in my head told me something different._ "It's alright,"_ it cooed. _"You can trust."_

Frowning, I marched back inside, muttering, "Well you saved me- I'll give you that much." It wasn't until the sound of the front door closing echoed off my walls did I realized that I had most likely did something incredibly stupid. But I didn't care; being reckless is what I do best.

I kicked off my shoes and rushed to the bathroom. I came back with a towel and handed it to Lovino, saying that I would get him some dry clothes. He was a few inches taller than me, so I had to give him my biggest pair of pants and white shirt (which was still a little small for him). As he changed, I placed another kettle on the stove and called the hospital.

I recognized the receptionist's voice and said, "Hi Julie, it's me: Annie. Just calling to-" Insert fake cough. "-to say I'm a bit sick today." Cough, cough. "So I'm not coming in." I haft listened as Julie told me it was fine and wished me good health. I sighed when I heard the phone click on the other end.

Lovino was standing at the door to the kitchen. He was wearing my clothes and had the towel over his head. He had been standing there, listening to the whole phone call. "So are you going to stand there all day or are you going to explain everything to me?" I was surprised the words were mine, but I was nearing desperation. I had to know what was going on.

His eyes didn't blink when I spoke, but he did ask, "How the hell did you know I was there?"

I took the whistling kettle off the stove. "It's what I would have done." I placed two tea cups on the table and motioned for him to join me. "Do you like cream or sugar?"

He glared down at the cup. "Neither."

We were silent as I poured us some tea. Simply holding the warm drink in my hand calmed me. Lovino was the first to speak. "So what the hell happened to you?" he asked.

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean!" He seemed frustrated with me. "We were at the party and the freaking house exploded-"

I interjected, "Did this happen back in 1941?"

Lovino took a minute to think it over. "Um. . . I think so. Why?"

Tea met my lips and burned my throat. Taking deep breaths, I slowly explained to him how I woke-up one day not being able to remember most of that year's events. His face slowly changed from being nonchalant to skeptical. "You have to be fucking kidding me," he said once my tale was done. "You can't have just forgotten everything." He searched for something to test me with. "Me, Antonio, Feli?" I nodded to each one.

He groaned. "So you don't even remember the Damn Potato Bastard?" Another nod. He buried his face in his hands and started muttering, "Fuck. Not good, not good. Is this what Arthur meant when he . . . shit."

I felt guilt root itself inside of me. "Scusami," I apologized. "Did I know you?"

Lovino nodded. "Yeah." He snapped out of his despair and looked me straight in the eye. "You're still going to help me though."

I choked on my tea. "What?"

He crossed his arms and nodded. "That's right. It's your fault Feliciano was taken in the first place."

"Feliciano?"

"My brother."

"How was it my fault?"

"Well you told me to fucking run!"

"You went along with it!"

We glared at each other for a few moments, daring the other to make another mood. It wasn't my fault Dad took this Feliciano guy in the first- "Wait a second. You said they took him?"

Lovino confirmed, "What the hell did you think I said?" I didn't reply. Instead, I just jumped out of my chair and grabbed my phone. "What are you-" I hushed him and dialed the number I knew by heart.

After a few rings, the phone was answered. "Ciao, who is this?" a man's voice asked.

"David, this is Ann-" I didn't get a chance to finish.

"Yes! My Sorella is calling me!" He sounded a bit too excited, though I couldn't blame him. I do my best to avoid him. "What can I do for you Annie?"

He was speaking so loud, Lovino could hear him clearly and was giving me a crazy look. I sighed and asked, "Did Dad tell you about any new progress with the-" I paused, considering whether or not I should say this in front of Lovino. I didn't think it mattered much at all. "-HETAs?"

As predicted, the Italian looked at me oddly, as if remembering something himself.

David sighed. "Of course you don't want to talk to your brother," he complained. "You and your revenge. Anyways, Dad brought in this puny guy, saying he was a HETA."

My heart stopped. Oh no. . . . "Did you see him?" I asked. "Can you describe him?"

"Well he was a little taller than you with short brown hair and he cried a lot. The guy was also Italian. None of us believed him to be one until this cut on his face started to heal. It was freaky-"

That was all I needed. I hang up the phone and started at Lovino. His face had a 'what was that about' look. If Feliciano was a HETA, didn't that make the older brother one as well? Was he the one who killed mom? My sweat was cold and I started to tightly grip the table cloth. "Lovino." My voice was soft and edgy. "Does your brother have short brown hair and cries a lot?"

He was unapparent to the acid leaking in my voice. "Yes. You saw him didn't you?"

"And does he heal? Really fast?"

"What?"

I glared at Lovino and growled, "Would a bunch of men be able to witness a cut on his face heal at an abnormal pace?"

Lovino stared at me, but wasted no time snarling in return, "I thought you said you didn't fucking remember!"

"I didn't need to. I was just told that your brother is in my Dad's care!"

"Great! Then let's go grab him!" Lovino was already rising from his seat.

I stopped him and explained, "No, not great. My dad believes that your brother is a HETA- someone who cannot die and was responsible for my mother's death. There's more than just him after people like that, but if my Dad can guarantee your brother is one, then he will find a way to kill him and I know that it will not be pleasant."

Lovino sat back down, looking more stressed than before. "Cazzo." He banged a fist on the table. If I thought he was angry before, then I was mistaken "Why the hell does- Didn't America say that. . . I'm a fucking country-"

"Country?"

"Yes! Country! You know! When a country is created there is a human born as well that represents it and shows-"

"-That's crazy!"

"Not as crazy as there being a thing as a HETA?" He had a good point. He stood again, storming out of my kitchen before I could stop him. "You know what? I was fucking wrong to trust a bitch like you." I chased after him, demanding that he stopped. "Why should I? You've just been a pain in my ass since the day we've met!"

I bit my lip, feeling something come over me. Before I could stop myself, I whispered, "Romano." The name felt weird in my mouth and I had no idea where I got it from, but for some reason it was there. "You always. . ."

That was right. I have met this guy before. The image I had was the two of us in the dimly light room, picking up a pile of discarded books on the ground. He was scowling and I was laughing. Before I could dig further into this odd memory, I realized that Lovino was slamming my front door shut.

Cursing, I ran to the door. It opened harshly and I didn't think twice when I stepped out into the rain. I was drenched in seconds. Lovino was further down the street, still hovering in his vexed atmosphere. Standing in a puddle, I started to yell, "Lovino! Why do you never let anyone help you?" He paused and I knew I had his attention.

I continued, "I have no idea who or even what you are, but. . ." My hand turned into a fist; my nails dug into my palm. "You know something about me I don't even know about myself! And that-" A deep breath. "-That connects me to you. So when you decide that you need my help you can come marching back here 'because you aren't going to make it without me."

I turned to walk away, but instead ran into some one's chest. It knocked me onto my butt and into the puddle. "What the bloody hell," was the thing that came from my mouth.

"What the hell are you doing here," was the words that floated from Lovino's. I looked up at my hindrance and gaped. I ran into a tall blond. His hair was a sandy blond and his eyebrows were gigantic.

He hid under a black umbrella and skeptical green eyes looked down at me. He crouched down to me and offered a hand. "Cheerio Annie," he greeted, face softening. "I hope I didn't hurt you."

I stared at his hand. I started to ask him how he knew my name as well when Lovino ran back over to us. "Arthur!" he yelled before punching the blond square in the jaw. I heard his bones crack and winced. He was also pushed onto his butt, also mirroring my position exactly. Ouch. "What the hell did you do?"

Arthur rubbed his jaw. He just as quickly snapped back, "What the bloody hell do you mean by that, git!" There was no doubt he was British as well.

Lovino pointed an accusing finger at me. "She's still alive! I thought you told me you took care of her!"

"I did!" Arthur looked me straight in the eye. "I mean- she doesn't remember anything, does she?"

The Italian stared at him, realization and shock over coming him. "Y-you . . . what the hell did you do?"

My eyes shot between the two men. I had some many questions at that moment, like how did these two men know each other? And did Lovino just imply that I was supposed to be dead? But only one escaped my mouth. "What the hell is going on?"

Arthur rose to his feet and pulled Lovino aside, whispering fiercely into his ear. Did he realize that I was the one wondering what was going on, not him? Eventually, the brunette made a 'oh' in understanding and started to share with him the story of his endeavors. I sat there dumbly on the ground, waiting for them to finish. Something told me I had caught myself in something far deeper than I first expected.

Finally, they both reached a mutual agreement and lifted a dumbfounded me to my feet. "Let's get you inside," Arthur said pleasantly, partially carrying me back to my house. I willingly followed, feet dragging on the ground. Seriously, what was going on?

Once inside, Lovino took a turn to get me a towel and Arthur invited himself to my kitchen, making another pot of tea. All of us were wrapped in fluffy white towels and seated at my kitchen table in minutes. The transition was so fast; I barely had time to think. The conversation started out with Lovino asking what Arthur was doing in my neighborhood anyways. "It's quite simple really," the blond stated, sounding like an intellectual. "When Feli and you didn't come back, I naturally asked the constables and they told me a passerby reported a suspicious Italian man sulking outside of a house."

That amazing explained a lot. There were a few moments of silence as Arthur took a long drink of his tea. He gave a sigh of satisfaction before saying, "So Miss Henson, you no doubt have many questions you would like to ask us."

Me: "Like hell I do-"

"Unfortunately, I cannot answer them." What? I stood; ready to make an objection when the Briton raised a hand in silence. I obliged and he said, "If I do answer them, then I can guarantee your death in a few days and we wouldn't want that now, would we?"

So was this one of those government things? One of those 'If I tell you, I'll have to kill you'? I scowled and flopped back into my seat. "Fine," I spat, and then muttered, "What the hell are you, French?"

He looked legitimately offended. "Don't you dare compare me to that Goddamn Frog!" He snapped, losing his gentlemanly demeanor.

"Get on with it!" Lovino shouted, losing his patience with us. "Feli is still captured." That's right, the real purpose for all of us being there.

Arthur sighed and regained his cool. "Forgive me. That was rude and inconsiderate." He took another drink and I had the urge to smoke. I resisted and did my best to listen. "Now Annie, as you have been informed, my associate and his brother, Feliciano Vargas, has been taken hostage by your family." I opened my mouth to explain it to him, but he added, "And no worry, I know everything about your HETA theory." Theory? Really?

Loudly, he placed his cup on the table. "Normally, something like this would be the problem of my government. However, if this gets out . . . it will be very bad." His green eyes met my blue ones. "Thus, I propose a deal."

Lovino seemed to be in complete agreement with everything he said. Should I? With slightly hesitation, I prompted my elbows on the table. "I'm listening," I said, displaying interest in the matter. In my head, I prayed for me not to be making the wrong decision.

"You will help us retrieve Feli from your father and in return I'll give you all the answers you need."

I saw the loophole automatically. "Need?" I repeated. "So I'm not going to get every answer I want."

Arthur shrugged, "Basically. Or else we'll have to-"

"Yeah, yeah I know. Kill me." I sighed and thought this over. This Feli guy did need my help, but I really didn't know anything about these two men. I could risk my life doing this yet I could receive nothing of value in return. I would like to claim that in the end, it was my mysterious bond that caused me to agree.

But that was only an afterthought. I spent three long years of submission to my Dad. Finishing medical school, not questioning what happened in Finland, even spending time with Walter; all of it was just me giving up without a fight. But that offer from Arthur- perhaps deep inside I knew that it was my last chance for rebellion. To show that I wasn't some doll everyone but me could control.

I gave in. "You have a deal, but you have to listen to everything I say- no objections. Got that?"

Arthur smiled where as Lovino waved it off. "Hell, whatever you say."

My brain slowly started to work. The first thing I did was rise to grab a sheet of paper and a pen. "What resources do you have?" I asked as I searched one of the many kitchen drawers for my items.

He took a second to think it over. "Well since I don't want to get my government involved, I guess the most we have is my car." I started to wonder if this whole 'my government' thing had something to do with Lovino supposingly being a country._ "No Annie,"_ I thought stubbornly, snatching a pen from the drawer. _"Don't be stupid. Concentrate on the task at hand."_

"That's fine," I said hastily, taking a seat back at the table. "Now listen here." I drew a rectangle with a smaller square inside. It was suppose to be a crude map of my family's mansion. "I know you already know about the HETAs, but I don't think you know about the families. Normally, my family's pretty harmless. However, due to my wedding reception, the Parkers, Alwins, and Connors-"

"Wait a second!" The interruption came from Lovino. "You're getting married?"

I frowned. "It's a long story. Moving on, because they are there, things are going to be a lot more dangerous for us- mostly since the Parkers are kind of a big fan of violence. Due to this, security would be very up-tight." I traced the outline of the larger rectangle. "This is the outer wall. It's too high to climb over and there are some very well trained guards who know where we keep our illegal weapons."

From Arthur, "You have illegal guns!"

"Stop interrupting me!" I pointed to the smaller square. "This is the mansion. Even inside, there will be guards everywhere. Inside, there is nothing that they do not know about. Now, it is most likely Feliciano is being kept in the basement."

Arthur nodded, absorbing everything I said. "I see. So, how do we get in?"

I shrugged. "No idea."

This did not play well with Lovino. "What the hell!" he yelled. "I thought you had a plan-"

"Annie! Are you alright?" We froze as the sound of someone entering my house became clear. I paled. Of course he had to come at the most inconvenient of times. I had no time to say anything as Walter turned the corner and walked into my kitchen, saying, "Sorry for barging in, but I heard yelling and Julie told me you were. . ." He froze when he saw Arthur and Lovino with me at the table.  
>". . . Sick." He finished it with barely a whisper. Poor guy, he was still dressed in his doctor's coat. His stern look did its best to portray his shock and it read clear. I guess walking in to find your supposedly sick future wife with two strange men sitting at her table was never a good sign.<p>

I smiled awkwardly. "Hi honey."

* * *

><p><strong>SEK<strong>: 0_o What the. . .

**MW**: This is a pretty weird chapter, but no worries! All your favorite countries will be back next chapter!

**SEK**: Yes! Russia shall be there!

**MW**: And if it is any consolations to you all, the next two will each have their own fight scenes. *smiles evilly* And we're nearing my favorite part of the story.

**SEK**: You don't mean. . .

**MW**: Yes I do! The Ma-

**Police Officer:** Sorry to interrupt, but I'm just here to remind you ladies that you still have the whole murder charges to deal with.

**SEK**: Right. . . remember to review folks!

**Fun facts and Translations**

"Germany attacked them straight on, almost determined to kill them flat out." When the Italians announced their surrender, (according to my bro) The Germans sunk a few Italian ships to scare them out of it.

"Corsa" Run. Italian.

"Lasciami andare" Let me go! Italian

"Scusami" Sorry. Italian.

"Sorella" Sister. Italian.

"Cazzo" Fuck. Italian.

**Next Chapter**: We find out what Walter will do.

**Remember to Review! **


	13. Arthur Kirkland: Magic Man

**MW: **It's nearly 11 at night. . . I don't wanna write a snappy AN.

**SEK**: Then I'll do the talking. Sorry for the late post, but this is a long chapter. **MW** said earlier that she didn't particularly care for this chapter, however the next one is going to be amazing.

**MW**: *mutters* Just a warning, there is a little brotherly USUK, but that's all. Remember to review, the lack of reviews for the last chapter told me you all didn't like it very much.

**Chapter Summary:** After a riveting answer, the world decides what they are going to do.

**Warnings:** Language, Death, Violence

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own Hetalia

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 13~<strong>

**Arthur Kirkland: Magic Man**

* * *

><p><strong>March 18, 1944<strong>

**My House**

"Annie, can you come to the living room please?" Walter's voice was surprisingly calm. He smiled at me and was obviously pretending that this revelation didn't bother him. I gave Lovino and Arthur weary glances before rising to join him.

My living room was considered to be rather small, but for a girl living alone, it was of perfect size. The walls were covered with floral wall paper and besides a book shelf, a few chairs, and a radio; it was empty. Walter walked into the center of the room and waited for me to join him. The moment I did, he placed the back of his hand on my forehead. "Are you alright?" he asked, checking to see if I had a temperature. "Julie told me you called in sick."

Of course. He started out coming here to see how I was doing (like the good future husband he is) and that was what he was going to do first. I scowled. "Of course I'm not sick," I said, moving his hand away from my head.

Walter sighed. "Good. Now-" he motioned to the men in my kitchen, who were doing their best to pretend not to be listening. "-Who are they?"

I never really had a reason to hate the grease head. In all truth, he has been nothing but kind and patient to me for three whole years. The least he deserved was for me to treat him with the same amount of respect. In a hushed whisper, I explained to him who they were and the events leading up to it. "And you're just going to trust them?" he asked when my story was over.

I grabbed his shoulder and turned his back to the door, away from Arthur and Lovino, and whispered harshly into his ear, "I don't trust them. But they know something about what happened in Finland. If I can get that from them-"

He whispered in the same manner, "And at what cost Annabel? Did you think about how this will affect everyone else around you?" I hadn't. In a way, he was right. When I made the deal with them, I really had only been thinking about myself. I never thought. . .

I shook my head. "No, I didn't," I admitted. "But Walter, if I can just know what-" I didn't get a chance to finish.

My fiancé left my side and strode casually into the kitchen, announcing, "Alright, I'm on your side. So what do we need to do?" I was confused. What?  
>Arthur caught on much quicker and with a skeptical gaze explained the problem of getting ourselves into the mansion. "<em>Is Walter going to help me?<em>" I wondered, before taking my seat.

The dark-haired man studied the map for a few seconds. At one point of time, Lovino asked what he was doing, just to be hushed by me and Arthur. I wanted to see what this guy could come up with. "You know, our wedding reception is going to take place there tomorrow," he said at last.

That started my thought process up again. "That's right. The gates would be wide open for us to march right in!"

"One problem asshole. You said that the guards would realize that they had an intruder." That came from Lovino, scowling like usual in his sulky mood. Walter was about to object to his harsh language when I hushed him.

The Italian did have a point. There was the chance that we would get lucky and they could confuse the two men for guest, but the odds were too slim. Arthur figured the solution first. "What if we were part of the guest list," he suggested hopefully.

Lovino huffed. "Idiot. How the hell are we suppose to-"

The blond pointed at Walter and me. "In case you haven't realized it, but those two are the ones getting married."

Walter cleared his throat and took the chance to introduce himself properly. "I'm Doctor Walter Alwin," he said, extending a hand towards Lovino.

He glared at it for a few seconds before shaking it reluctantly. "Lovino Vargas," he spat. His gaze shifted to me. "What the hell are you doing with a bitch like her?" he demanded.

The doctor frowned before replying evenly, "That 'bitch' just happens to be my beautiful future wife." He gave me an unsure look. "Or at least that is what a normal engaged couple would say, right?"

I nodded. "Right."

Lovino's gaze shifted between the two of us in disgust. "Whatever," he said at last. He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. "So you just get Arthur and me on the guest list and we just sneak fratello out of his cell. Sounds easy."

Shaking my head, "It's not that simple. Adding one person onto the list would cause enough suspicion as is. Two would be too much."

"Fine. Just add me to the list-"

Arthur realized my point first. Calmly, he explained, "Lovino, you also look way too much like Feli. Some one's going to notice." He also looks way too much like me, but I wasn't just about to say so aloud. He sighed before saying, "I'll go in."

With all truth, I was thankful that he was going to go instead of the Italian. Lovino seemed like a risk. My suspicion told me that he would most likely cuss out the first person he saw. The Brit on the other hand had a steadier temper. If his flawless British Mannerisms didn't fail us, then he could weave his way through anything- even David.

I nodded in agreement. Through another hour of talking, we developed a plan. It was nearing three in the afternoon when Lovino and Arthur finally left, telling us that they'll see us the day of the reception. From the window, Walter and I watched them leave. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, hand on my back.

"I'm sure." I twisted the ring on my finger. "However, this does not mean that it won't back fire terribly."

* * *

><p><strong>March 18, 1944<strong>

**Location Unknown**

Italy didn't know where he was. The room was dark and the only light came from a small window too high up to peak through. He knew that somewhere before him was a stair case leading to the door out of there, but the country had already tried it and discovered that it was lock. The natural light flooding in was turning to an orange color, hinting that day light was nearly over.

That was not a good sign. Yesterday, when he had woken, it was already night and the shadows of the room made the outlines of strange shapes appear. Italy was so afraid, he ended up crying himself to sleep.

The door above him opened with a creek. Light flooded in, only to be quickly blocked by a looming figure. The person closed the door quickly before walking slowly down the stairs. Italy's eyes grew wide and he pressed himself against the wall. "Non uccidermi!" He cried, praying to whatever God there was out there. "Ho un cugino in Galles e sono ancora vergine e non è divertente uccidere una vergine!"

The person stopped a few feet from Italy and placed a plate in front of him. "I'm not going to kill you," he said testily. "I just brought you some food."

Italy paused and looked at the plate. There was cold pasta on it. Greedily, he snatched the plate and started to devour it greedily. "This sucks," he complained, doing his best not to spit the food out.

"I know, but I couldn't convince the cooks to cook it otherwise." The other sighed and pulled and cigarette from his pocket. He struck a match to light it, temporally illuminating his face.

The country's demeanor changed as he suddenly hugged the stranger. "Grande Fratello~!" he cooed happily, nuzzling his brother's neck.

"I'm not your brother!" The person snapped, prying the Italian off of him.

Italy tilted his head. The facial features were the same as his . . . wait no. The person before him had lighter hair and blue eyes. "Come si chiama, Lei?" he asked, deciding to see whether or not the person knew any Italian at all.

Apparently, he did. "Mi chiamo David Henson." He paused before adding, "Though I prefer the surname 'Rossi'- makes me seem a lot less British, right?"

Italy nodded. "Sì~!" he exclaimed. "My name is Feliciano Vargas, by the way!"

David smiled, saying, "Well that sounds extremely Italian. Lucky you." He was silent for a moment as he took a long drag. If Italy remembered correctly, then this David guy was at the incident in Finland. Shouldn't that make him dangerous? But that couldn't be right; David was being so nice to him. He said at last, "No doubt you are wondering why I am here."

Italy gave another "Sì."

He gave a breath of smoke. "I'm here to give you a warning," he stated simply. "A lot of painful things are coming your way and if I am right, you'll be alive to experience it all." He gave him a sad look. "I can't do anything to help you . . . so I just want to say that I am sorry."

The country was confused. "Vee~ so you're going to hurt me?" he asked. David nodded. "But why?"

The half-Brit gave the best explanation he could. "I guess it's because we're afraid of people like you."

"So you're going to hurt me?"

David nodded. "I don't expect you to understand. I just figured that we Italians have to stick together." There was a knocking noise on the door, causing him to sigh. Reluctantly, he stood to his feet. "I have to go now."

He started to hike back up the stairs. He was only half way up before he felt a tug on his sleeve- Italy. "Signor Rossi," he said, gaining his full attention. "I'm afraid of Ludwig because he attacked me, yet I don't hate him. I don't want to hurt and kill him. So why do you want to hurt me?"

David placed a hand on Italy's auburn hair and ruffled it affectionately. "You're so cute," he muttered before saying, "Because not everyone is a good person like you." His sleeve released, he finished his climb up to the door. He placed a stiff hand around the knob.

He said suddenly, "I am going to tell you this Feliciano Vargas: I know for sure that your friends and the Kid and going to come for you. When? I'm not quite sure." And he left without another word.

Italy returned to his small pool of fading light and laid on his back. He started to vaguely wonder what that had been about before falling into another siesta.

* * *

><p><strong>Date Unknown<strong>

**Location Unknown**

"_Bruder? Is big brother still alive?"_

_"He's fine. I swear on my title as the King of Northern Europe."_

"_Gut."_

_"Her lung's pierced. She doesn't have much time."_

_"There is no way to be the hero in this situation."_

_"But there is a way to be merciful."_

My eyes flew open and I gave a small yelp. Within a few moments, I was out of my bed and leaning over the toilet, barfing last night's dinner. _"What the bloody hell was that?" _I wondered. That . . . there were people's faces, but they were blurred and the voices were unfamiliar. There was nothing that could have tied me to them, yet my heart pounded painfully against my chest. I was drenched in cold sweat.

I fell to my knees and sat on the cool bathroom floor till morning. Nothing passed much in my thoughts until I saw the glints of sunlight seep through the small window. That was right; today is the day of the reception.

My stomach tied itself into knots. I was going to rescue a guy I barely knew. Perhaps- if I was lucky -everything would turn out okay in the end.

* * *

><p><strong>March 19, 1944<strong>

**London Countryside**

The road before us was orange in the fading daylight. The city lights of London had long left us. Our only company was the vehicle behind us: Lovino, driving Arthur's car. Said Brit was sitting at the front seat with Walter.

All three men were dressed in the Sunday best, which was fitting since today was Sunday. "_You shouldn't be committing crimes on the Lord's day_," I thought dryly. I was wearing a dress Rosa had personally chosen: a long sleeves red dress with a black shawl around my shoulders.

"Red is just a good color for you," she told me when I questioned the look. I knew that the real reason was that no one wanted to see my scars. Or the white bandage on the side of my head for that matter. Defying all fashion statements of the time, my hair was let loose, though it was slightly curled.

My thoughts switched back and forth in my head. Will this go as plan? Was I doing the right thing? No one answered. When we were close enough to the house, we pulled over to the side of the road. Walter and Arthur exited our car and marched over to Lovino's, reminding him of the plan.

"Do not leave this spot," Arthur told him.

Walter corrected, "Or at least until Arthur comes back with Feliciano. In that case, let them into the car and drive away quickly."

Lovino himself gave them a healthy dose of swearing, reminding them that he wasn't an idiot. I sat idly in the car and waited for them to finish. I nearly gave a sigh of relief when the engine was ignited once again. The sooner we got this done, the better.

The drive to the mansion was another three long minutes. When it came into view, I felt a nostalgic wave come over me. The house was a clean white color with multiple balconies and windows. The roof was a beautiful black contrast to it. The building was surrounded by a few yards of the greenest grass possible. Encasing it all was a tall gray-brick wall.

The black iron gates were already opened, greeting the guest for the party. Walter and Arthur seemed utterly calm; as if they had rescued random Italians from corrupted British families this many times before. We pulled up to the front and a hired valet man took the drivers spot from Walter.

I exited the car carefully. Arthur was there to meet me, offering to loop his arm with mine. In a queer way, it was déjà vu for me. I could almost remember it . . .

_I was walking down a large staircase. The room before me was filled with people of all sexes and races. At the bottom, extending an arm to me was a familiar pair of eyebrows. I hooked my arm into his and felt relief overflow me. "How are you?" Arthur whispered, loud enough for only me to hear._

_My reply was straight to the point: "I feel like crap."_

I stared at his arm, causing him a bout of confusion. "Annie, are you alright?" he asked, full of concern. I blinked. I've met Arthur Kirkland before. It was suspected at first, but to actually have it confirmed. . .

"_Why was he waiting for me down there?"_ I wondered. _"And why would I feel relief upon seeing him? Unless-" You_ know what? Finishing that thought would be way too embarrassing! You guys can just get out of my head for once! And stay out!

Walter came to my rescue. "Let me escort her," he told the blond patiently. "It'll seem unnatural if you do so." He did have a point there. I quickly hooked my arm with his and leaned into his side. "Are you alright?" he whispered, only loud enough for me to hear. "Your face is red."

I didn't comment. With Arthur walking at a respectable at my side, we entered the house. I could tell the blond took a second to marvel the foyer. The floor below us was a polished marble where as the gray-white walls were lined by extravagant molding. To our side was a closet for hanging coats while in front of us was a spiraling stair case leading to the personal chambers of the house. At the bottom was Dad and Abigale, greeting guest before motioning to a door leading to the ballroom.

Dad smiled at me. "There's the couple of the evening," he called with arms out stretched.

With a refined atmosphere, the three of us strode up to them. I took the chance to speak first. "Hello father," I greeted, giving him a hug and a kiss to the cheek. "Hello ma'me." She received a similar greeting.

Dad patted Walter's shoulder. "I'm glad you both came on time to your own party."

My fiancé replied smoothly, "Well if we were the ones planning it, then we wouldn't had."

The old man laughed. I had to admit, he looking good in his suit. Even his graying blond hair seemed young. Abigale, however, seemed old in her navy dress and piled high blond hair.

She scrutinized Arthur, observing him carefully. "And who might you be?" She asked suspicion.

"He's a friend from college," I explained.

Arthur took my stepmother's hand and kissed it gently. "Good evening," he greeted. "I'm Arthur Kirkland and who might you be?"

It was plain that the Brit was charming and it seemed to had affected her. She smiled and the rouge on her cheeks grew a little darker. As she exchanged a greeting with him, the next group of guest was entering. Dad told us to join our family and friends in the ballroom before whole heartily greeting my cousins.

"Annie, did your dad fight in the first world war?" Arthur whispered, warmth breath dancing on my good ear.

His breath sent distracting shivers down my back as I took a minute to think about it. "I think he fought during the last year or so, why?"

"No reason." We entered the ballroom. In all truth, it was much smaller than the ballroom from my strange memory, but no less extravagant. The marble floors continued below us and hanging from the white ceiling was a grand crystal chandler. There was a small, hired band playing classical music, though no one was dancing. Most were either standing about or sitting at one of the many circular tables, exchanging the latest family gossip.

"Auntie Annie~!" My face light up as the two cutest children ran from their mother and hugged my legs. The first was a small blond in six years of age. She wore a pretty pink dress and smiled with only half of her teeth: Caroline. The other was her younger brother, three years younger than her; he fiddled in his dress clothes and hid behind his sister: Edward.

I bent to their height and gave them both hugs and kisses. "My dears," I cooed. "How are you doing?"

Caroline smiled. "Good. But Auntie, look!" From her dress pocket, she pulled out a slightly squashed dandelion. "My book says that one of these harbors a fairy."

I was about ready to play along with her when Arthur gently took the weed from her hand. "Yes it does," he said with a smile. He rubbed a gentle finger along the stem, causing it to somehow seem less dead. "This one says that her name is Pip."

The little girl grew excited. "Pip!" She exclaimed, taking the plant back from him. She repeated the name before running away to her mother, Rosa. Said step-sister waved to me as Edward more politely excused himself.

Walter smiled. "They're so cute," he stated before asking, "But why did you tell her that Arthur?"

He shrugged. All he gave on the subject was: "Pip just wanted the girl to know." That was very odd. Was this guy crazy or something? For the next few minutes, we floated from conversation to conversation, greeting the people we knew. Over all, it was very tedious. I was almost thankful to take a seat at one of the tables and just watch.

Arthur, however, was not so lucky. The minute he rested his legs, Caroline came skipping over and asked him to show her how to dance. I started to say 'Mr. Kirkland does not-' when the Brit jumped to his feet in a burst of energy.

"Come on," he urged, taking her hand and leading her to a clear area. "A proper English lady should always know how to dance."

Walter took a sip of his wine. "He's very good with children," he commented as we observed Caroline placing her feet on top of his before they swayed back in forth in tune. "I truthfully didn't expect that."

"Something tells me he's had children of his own," I said from the blue. I didn't know what would cause me to say that, but it just seemed to fit.

Walter stood to his feet, running a hand through his greased hair. "I'm going to get into position," he said. He started to walk away, but stopped. He turned back to me and kissed me full on the lips. "Please don't lose your head, got it Annie?" Speechless, I managed to only nod. My fiancé smiled before strutting off proudly.

I will never understand that man.

At first, I watched Walter mingle his way into a group of Parkers. His job was to distract everyone. How? I was not quite sure. I knew that for some reason, my gaze was comforting to him; he was constantly glancing back at me for reassurance. However, my sight soon shifted back to Arthur. He was telling something to my niece and she responded with a merry laugh.

I watched them for awhile. Dancing- when was the last time I've done it? I started to think back, trying to remember. . .

_Quiet suddenly, I was dancing with Lovino. He was constantly correcting me and wincing when my foot went on top of his. I blinked. Hand in hand, I was gracefully moving in tune with a dark skinned man. His face was emotionless, but it didn't bug me at all. Blink. Dancing with me was a blond man. He was slight and had French looking hair. _

_Fiercely, he whispered, "Why did you kill him?"_

I blinked. Gladly, I was back to reality, watching Arthur continue his dance with Caroline. I killed someone? How? Why? Who did I kill? God, this was getting screwed up badly. Why couldn't things be remotely normal for once? I vaguely noticed my brother take a seat right next to me. "Hey Kid," he greeted lazily. "Qualcosa non va?"

I gave him a blank look. "Nothing is wrong," I said with tiredness. "And do you always have to speak Italian?"

David took offense to that. "Well what am I suppose to do?" he asked. "Speak English like a stupido uomo inglese?"

Me: "Speaking English doesn't make you a 'stupid Brit.'"

He sighed and stood, motioning me to follow him. "Come on," he ordered. "Dad wants to talk to you."

"Can't he come here and talk to me?" I asked even though I was already rising.

He shook his head and led me out of the ballroom. "No, he wants to talk in his study." We walked up the stair case back the foyer and traveled down the familiar halls. Occasionally, I saw the attentive guard standing between doors.

Nothing about this strange to me. After we moved from Italy and back to England, I spent my summers and vacations away from school in this house.

David opened the door to Dad's study for me and we both walked in. Dad was not at his desk, but rather in one of the plush leather chairs surrounding the coffee table with Abigale. He had a chess board all set up for a game, though he did not seem keen in playing. My brother took a seat in the other chair, leaving me to stand.

Dad was silent for a moment longer. Finally, he asked, "Annie, are you starting to remember anything?"

How did he know I was? Was it something I did . . . or was it Arthur? Was the strange British man part of the bigger picture? He had to be- to know about my family and the HETAs, but how deep is he in this exactly? I lied. "No. Why?"

He was silent for a moment. "I was wondering, what happened to that cross you always had?" Abigale asked, changing the subject completely.

"What cross?" I asked. In complete seriousness, I literally had no idea what the hell she was talking about.

Dad stood and wrapped me in a large hug. "Honey, I know you are a good girl," he cooed into my ear. In his hold, I felt like a little girl again. I couldn't help myself but to hug back. "You're always trying to do the right thing. But-" He broke the embrace and his blue eyes met mine. "-I can't have you do this."

It was then that it occurred to me that he already knew. He knew the whole plan to break Feliciano out of our basement. It couldn't be over already- not yet.

The door behind me opened and James ushered in an unconcern Arthur. The Brit seemed to fine no problem in being mysteriously lead out of a party and into some strange man's room. He was even smirking, as if he knew something we didn't. Once James closed the door, leaving the five of us alone, did he speak. "May I ask what is going on?" he said, merely for the sake of being the first to ask.

David rose to his feet and ignored the previous question and gave his own. "We've met before, haven't we?" he asked.

To my surprise, Arthur nodded. "Yes, though I have to admit, it is much easier to recognize you with blond hair." Blond hair? David bleached his hair three years ago! I stared at them both. What the hell is going on?

My brother asked, "Isn't this breaking our agreement?"

Arthur replied evenly, "No worry, I wouldn't kill your sister." Kill me? What?

The brother was quiet, giving Arthur the chance to address my Dad. "I'm starting to wonder if it was smart of me to save you all those years ago Patrick."

Dad only smirked. "So you do remember me," he stated.

"How could I forget?" What? Arthur also knows Dad? I couldn't comprehend anything anymore. My body was frozen in place and my senses were going haywire. Arthur knew both my family members and has gone far enough to save one of them? And yet would still kill me?

Like a politician, Arthur moved across the room as if he owned it, running a finger along the pieces of furniture and nick-knacks. "I do not expect you to feel in debt towards me," he said nonchalantly. "But I do ask a favor of you." His green eyes suddenly met my Dad's. They were fierce and contained some raging fire within. "You have my friend. Let him go."

"We can't do that." I shot a crazed look at Abigale. Was she really that evil, that selfish?

When Dad saw my look he added, "You and everyone else like you has caused too much trouble for me too feel any sympathy." Dad had a hand on my shoulder. "And I know you did something to my daughter."

Arthur shrugged. "I only wished the best. But I really must get moving or else you'll also have to deal with an angry brother. Therefore-" He clapped his hands together, preparing himself to do something. "-grab Feli and run." That last part was directed to me.

In a low voice, the Brit started to chant something incoherently. Or as it seemed. As he chanted, the air in the room started to circulate violently. For longer than I should had, I gawked at him. How was he doing that?

Abigale screamed and gripped her chest before collapsing to the floor. David shoved me into the door, and I remembered my orders. _"Save Feli." _ My hand reached the handle and I stumbled out of the room just as I heard Dad load his gun. Oh God. I ran down the hallways as fast as I could, the guards calling to me and asking me what was wrong before running to the study.

I pushed besides them and came down the stairs to the foyer. I entered another hallway until I came upon the basement door, guarded by another man. Without much though, I punched him in the throat. The hit broke his neck bone and I either paralyzed or murdered him. . .Shit.

I tried not to think about it as I took the keys off his belt and unlocked the door. Without the lights on, it was a deadly dark inside. "Feliciano," I called, afraid to go in there blind. "Are you alright?" I heard a soft "vee~" in reply. I'll take it as a no.

I slowly made my way down the steps, feeling each spot before each step. The room's small window allowed the moon's light to create a puddle on the floor. Lying in the center was a beaten man. His clothes were torn and dried blood was in his auburn hair. This was Lovino's brother.

_I was exhausted and in desperate need of water. I bent over a stream, bringing the water to face dirty face. "Vee~!" My head shot up and I realized that the sound came from the other side of the brook. Cautiously, I waded through the water and tipped toed my way to the lump. The lump was actually a peacefully sleeping man. I bent down to his height, muttering, "So who are you?"_

_I gasped and stumbled back when I realized he was wearing an Italian military uniform._

Whoa, random vision. I would have loved to have watched the whole scene play through, but I had more important things to do. Carefully, I shook Feliciano. "Are you alright?" I repeated, dread over flowing me. If he was dead. . . I can't even bring myself to say it.

Luckily, the Italian's eye slowly opened. "Vee," he moaned again. "Is that you fratello?"

"No, I'm Annie," I introduced. "I know your brother though. I'm going to get you out of here. Can you stand?"

He ignored me. "Annie," he repeated, becoming lost in his own memories. "Why did you leave?" he asked. "Didn't you like us?"

"What?" Great, another person I forgot about. I took a deep breath. I had to hurry. "Can you walk?"

"It hurts to," Feliciano said. "And I'm so sleepy."

That was not good. I quickly ordered, "Do not fall asleep." I didn't say how I was afraid he wouldn't wake-up. Carefully, I urged him to sit-up and climb onto my back. I was going to have to carry him out.

Even though the Italian was much taller than me, he was very light. He rode on my back, face buried in my hair. Every time I heard him snore, I pinched his leg, waking him again. When we reached the hallway, there was an obvious commotion coming from the ballroom. I wondered what Walter did as a distraction.

I snuck past it and out the front door. Outside was deserted. No more guests were arriving and the valet men were off on a break. Feliciano slide off my back, saying that Ludwig would be mad if he didn't do this himself. I didn't ask him what he meant.

"Just go by the road until you see a car," I instructed. "Lovino should be there waiting."

Feliciano suddenly hugged me and kissed my cheek. "Vee~!" He cooed, nuzzling my neck. "I knew you were a good person." I wanted to scream to him that I wasn't, but I could not bring the words to my mouth. The man was so childish; I felt the need to be motherly towards him.

He was about to start his journey when the second story window above us shattered as a man- Arthur -jumped out. He did a shoulder roll on the ground, stopping a few feet away from us. "Arthur~!" The Italian yelled, running up to the man and hugging him as well. "Are you alright?"

Arthur smiled and patted his back. "I'm fine," he said. "I should be asking you if you're alright." Feliciano got a scared look upon his face, making the Brit reconsider his question. Instead, he asked, "Was it that bad?"

Feliciano: "Si."

The blond sighed and rose to his feet, an arm around the smaller man. He started to walk away before remembering that I was there. He paused. "Thank you," he said, smiling softly. "I should answer some of your questions now." Not the best time, but okay.

A day ago, I would have wanted this more than anything. But after all this; finding out how deep this was running, made me hesitate. "I only have one question," I said. "And a request." I glanced up at the window, wondering when David or Dad was going to peek out and see me doing this.

Arthur followed my eyes. "No worry, they're preoccupied."

I nodded, before asking, "Did I kill anyone?"

Both men were silent. Finally, "Yes, you did."

That was the answer I was hoping not to get. I looked down and turned my hands into fist. My sweat had run cold. I wanted to ask who, but then what?

With no guilt, I told him my request: "Leave me and my family alone. Make sure none of us get the smallest whiff of you guys again, got it?"

My words made both of their eyes shine with hurt. Nonetheless, Arthur agreed. "I should have expected it," he said. Together, he and Feliciano started to walk away. I watched their retreating figures for awhile before returning inside.

The ballroom had quieted and Walter was sitting on the stair steps. "How did it go?" he asked as I took a seat beside him. Automatically, he wrapped a comforting arm around me.

"It could have been better," I summarized. We settled into a comfortable silence, listening to the chorus of voices from the other room. It was full of mirth. Obviously, everyone had recovered from the man's distraction.

The front door was still open, revealing the full moon for us to look at. It seemed sad in a twisted sort of way. "I hate him," I muttered at last. Walter gave an 'hm' in question. "I hate my Dad. He always controlling everything and he's the root of this all." I felt a flame inside of me reignite. "I don't get any free choices of my own. I just feel . . . so trapped."

Walter kissed my forehead. "A normal engaged man would tell his fiancé that if it wasn't for him, then they wouldn't be together." He was attempting to use humor as a way to lighten the mood. All it did was aggravate me.

I pushed away his arm and stood. "But we aren't a normal couple," I snapped. "And we'll never be. We're just two people forced to be with one another. I just-" I groaned with frustration and stomped my foot. "I hate him! I hate David! I hate Abigale!"

"Don't mock the dead!" The voice was harsh. We both glanced up and saw David at the top of the stairs, leaning against James for support. He looked beaten and a pistol was held limply in his hand. My brother looked like an emotional wreck.

I stood and faced him. "What do you mean by that?" I demanded.

He moved from James and marched down the steps towards me. His hand shot out and gripped my neck painfully. My own nailed at his arm, trying to peel it away. Walter appeared at David's side, trying to pull him back, demanding he calmed down. "Let go," I croaked, gasping for oxygen.

My brother did, but not before growling, "Abigale's dead." My world stopped. Abigale was . . . "From a stroke. All because of you, Annie! All because you brought that damn Kirkland here! I hope you feel proud of your accomplishment."

He marched back up the stairs, letting me collapse onto the ground. Walter caught me half way and I leaned into his chest. I never liked the girl, but I could now say with confidence that I killed three people.

* * *

><p><strong>March 20, 1944<strong>

**Conference Room, Switzerland**

The room was large, containing a long rectangular table the stretched from one end to another. Every possible spot was filled with people of all genders and races, only half-listening to the Swiss man at the head, giving them a speech on the 'pointless endeavors' that caused the war amongst them. Most would have voiced an objection to most of the stuff he said, but there was a large gun in his hand and a serious Russian at his side.

When he paused for a breath, a hand was raised in the air. Switzerland groaned. "What is it America?" he asked testily. No one could blame him; the young country usually set them down a completely unrelated topic to the one they were discussing.

"Dude, we're missing some people," the blond pointed out eagerly. "Shouldn't we wait for them?"

"We don't have time to wait for them," China pointed out. "We're already an hour off schedule-aru."

Netherlands huffed, "It's not like we do anything here anyways."

The doors to the room opened and the missing countries arrived: Britain, Italy, and Romano. Out of the three, the older Italian was the only one who didn't look as they ran through a mine field. However, all three were obviously exhausted. "Sorry we're late," Britain apologized, dragging himself and Italy to the two empty seats by America and France. "We ran into a bit of trouble before leaving."

Switzerland scowled. "You know how critical this meeting is," he snapped, unforgiving. "What the hell were you doing that was so important?"  
>Romano, taking his seat by Spain, yelled, "It doesn't fucking matter! We got into a shit load of trouble and it took a while to get out of!"<p>

There was a small chuckle. Across the room, Germany sat straight in his chair. He was dressed in a dark, long military coat with the Nazi armband on his arm. The rim of his hat covered his cold eyes from view, though anyone could see the smirk played upon his face. "I'm glad you finally admit it," he said, shooting a glare to both of the Italy brothers, causing Italy to whimper loudly. "You're weak without me and you'll always be weak."

Hungary, sitting to his left, placed a hand on his arm. "That was uncalled for," she scolded. There was a trace of distress in her voice. Others voiced their agreements.

The blond scoffed. "Well their problem couldn't have been all that bad or else they would have told us already."

"Annie." It was Italy's voice, soft from burden the past few days had placed upon him. His large eyes at circles under them and they looked almost hallow.

The world was silent as they tried to remember the significance to that name, save for Britain reminding him that they promised to leave her alone and that their other countries definitely wouldn't do so.

Slowly, it all started to come back to them. Romano closed his eyes and imagined the memory that was playing behind theirs. . .

* * *

><p><strong>December 25, 1941<strong>

**Finland's House**

When Romano came to, he found himself caught under a large beam. The smoldering fires made smoke that burned his lungs and nose. The Italian remembered clearly what had happened: one moment he had been trying to escape Spain's grasp and the next he was being blown across the room. He knew that it was little to go by, but it was better than nothing.

Stiffly, he tried to lift a heavy limb but gasped in pain instead. Alright, he had miscalculated his healing ability. Obviously, his whole body wasn't healed yet. Roman gasped for air, before calling out, "Hey! Can somebody get this fucking thing off of me?"It was silent for a moment. _"What if I'm the only one awake?" _he wondered when no reply came. Right when his thought finished, a voice ranged through the air.

"Da, where are you Romano?" Oh great, it was the Communist. Out of anyone who could have saved him it had to be Russia.

Romano groaned. "Here you fucking idiot." He heard Russia come closer. The country was strong and had no trouble lifting the beam off of him.

"There you go," Russia said with his evil innocent smile. For some reason, he didn't look beat up. His clothes were in a very crisp shape. That meant that the Russian had escaped the blast. "All good."

He slowly got onto shaky feet. Romano could feel his left arm slowly mend the shattered bone back together and his countless cuts and burns reform back to perfect skin. This was the healing ability of the nations- if they are injured in any way that does not mirror their respective country, then they heal themselves at an abnormal rate.

The Italian glared at Russia. "What the hell happened?" He spat as his brown eyes wandered the site. A lot of the other nations were still in the rubble, but many were already up and about, talking among themselves about what had happened. Romano noticed that neither his younger brother nor his Spanish harasser were awake yet. However, the damn potato bastard was.

Romano pressed his lips together. Of course Germany was awake; he probably used Veneziano as a shield. He ignored the pain in his limbs and marched over to the German. "Damn Potato Bastard," he yelled when he was at arm's length. "What the hell did you do with my younger fratello?"

Germany looked at him. His face was drawn and his blue eyes looked tired. His head was covered with blood from an already healed head injury and it was quiet obvious he was having trouble keeping his balance. "I don't know," he said, blond hair disheveled.

It was plain that there was more he wanted to say, but Romano was quick to snap, "Like hell you don't! It was probably your fault this all happened in the first place!" Other nations were starting gather around them. He was able to pin names to the hurt faces: Austria, Canada, China, Japan, Hungary, Switzerland, Korea, Romania- the list went on.

"But I have no idea what happened!" Germany snapped in defense. The curious looks of the countries made it obvious that they barely had an idea either. America, Denmark, Turkey, and Russia were the only ones who seemed to know anything, but they had gone to work saving the nations still trapped.

Japan stepped forward. Most of his injuries were gone, but there was this long cut going down the length his body. There was no way he got that from the explosion. "Germany-san, could you tell us what happened to you?" he asked, politeness drenching his words. "I remember an explosion, but nothing after that." Countries muttered in agreement.

The blond sighed and ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back from his face. "Well I don't even remember the explosion."He took a second to recollect. "I was in my room and Annie randomly gave me chocolates. I ate one of them and ended up feeling immediate weakness. I woke up to find America fishing me out from the shrapnel." He looked around. "Speaking of which, where the hell is that girl anyways?"

China gave a huff. "She's probably dead-aru." Romano noted that the idea didn't seem to bother the immortal one bit. There were a few others that seemed to legitimately cared, though the Italian himself held no opinion on the matter. If Annie was dead, then who cares? It was going to happen sooner or later.

"No, she still alive." The voice belonged to America. He was carrying a few unconscious African countries on his back. Russia and Denmark were also joining him while Turkey came forward with Greece and Egypt, both too injured to walk by themselves. All the four nations held sorrowful looks on their faces.

Britain gaped at his former charged. He looked sad- the exact opposite of his usual hero complex. "How do you know that?" the British man asked, doing his best not to aggravate him.

All of the countries released their burdens and took seats on the ground. They were near where the remains of their campfire had been. For the most part, America and Denmark told the story of Rodger Parker's attack and David Henson's strange request. Turkey added a couple of 'Told you so', before Greece finally told him to shut-up. Russia was oddly quiet, as if deep in thought.

"So they just let you go?" Switzerland asked. He cradled a still sleeping Lichtenstein's head on his lap. Having a head reattached was strenuous and caused a lot of stress onto the body.

Denmark nodded. "Don't know why. I mean- that guy made it seem as though it was a big deal on capturing us."

"HETAs." Turkey shook his head that the odd memory before voicing clearly, "But I was right. We trusted that human and look where we are now! Betrayed and feeling like-"

Hungary came to the girl's defense. "Now now," she spoke in frightful Hungarian, too nervous to speak any other tongue. "We have no proof that she was even in on this in the first place." A few muttered in agreement.

America was quick to jump onto that bandwagon. "Yeah! That Henson punk cut off her freaking ear! Why would someone be on their side if they hacked your stinking limbs off?"

"That's right America-san." Someone muttered for Japan to gain his own opinions, causing the stoic man to add, "There is no evidence that Annie-san was in on this-"

"I have evidence," Canada said for the twentieth time. Luckily for him, he finally gained enough people's attention and all eyes landed on him. The blonde's face was still partially burned and was reforming slowly as he spoke. He took a deep breath, feeling nervous all the sudden. "W-well, you see here, I went to Hungary and Germany's room to apologize for Big Brother's rude behavior-"

"I was not being rude!"

Britain smacked him across the head. "Shut-up you git and let him finish!"

Canada could feel himself turning invisible. He had to finish this story quick. "And I saw Miss Henson give Germany the candy and Germany fell over dead and-"

Romano snapped, "Damnit! We know that already!" Russia placed a hand on his shoulder and the Italian hushed, fearing for his life.

"And I saw Miss Henson walk away. Smiling." Canada took a deep breath. He was close to finishing and his last word had left the other nations silent. "I asked her about it later," he added, thinking back to when he danced with the girl. "And she said she hated you, Germany. I think-"

"That she did it on purpose," Germany finished. He was deep in thought, thinking over the Canadian's words carefully. He knew quiet well that Annie held a dislike towards him, but to actually attempt to kill him? He didn't believe it, the girl was an idiot, not a murder.

It was pointless to say so, since all the ex-maid's defense were starting to believe her to be the monster Turkey painted her to be. Some were saying that they should go after these 'Henson' and 'Parker' folks. In complete truth, having organizations come after them is not an unusual occurrence. It has happened before, but the countries had always been two steps ahead of them and found ways to mess with them before nailing them to some petty crime.

But what was disturbing was the fact that someone had gotten so close.

"I think we should stay away," Russia said neatly. All attention was on him. "It's obvious that they think they out witted us, so I believe we should gather information on them and wait for the next attack."

There was much debate over this proposition, but Romano didn't pay attention to half of it. In fact, he was more curious to why the Russian wanted to take such an observant path. Usually he wanted to take the most violent one. "I'll take care of it," Britain said at last. "She hails from my country, so she is my responsibility." No one argued.

As more countries started to call for help, the focus was returned to saving everyone else before the Finish officials arrived. Romano hunted Russia down. "Why the hell did you do that?" he asked, feeling as though the other was up to no good.

Russia smiled. "What do you mean by that?"

He groaned. "What I fucking mean is this: You know something that you're not telling us and damnit! I want to know what it is."

The taller man paused and thought for a second. "Okay," he said at last, acting as though it was no big deal. "I'll tell you." He bent down to Romano's height and whispered, "Before returning here, I asked David's lackey what his problem was. He replied with, 'He just loves his sister.' Now tell me comrade, you're an over-protective big brother, what does that mean?"

Romano scowled. "I have no fucking. . ." The conclusion hit him as well. "Annie doesn't like him, so she-"

"Wasn't involved, da?"

* * *

><p><strong>March 20, 1944<strong>

**Conference Room, Switzerland**

"That bitch?" Turkey yelled upon remembering, rising to his feet in a fit of rage. "She's back?" He triggered a chain reaction. Many people stood and voiced their own opinions on how bad the situation was.

Romania sniffed the air. "Well they're covered with her scent," he stated, nose crunching at how bad it was.

"I didn't think she was too bad," Spain said, wrapping his precious henchman in his arms. "She seemed like a very nice person." A few people, mainly Hungary, agreed with him.

"Emphasis on the 'seemed'," Cuba snapped just as Canada attempted to voice his opinion. Like always, no one heard him.

Multiple times, Switzerland fired his gun at the ceiling, demanding silence. It wasn't until a pipe lightly tapped the table did the voices die out.

Russia sat calmly in his chair, tapping his favorite pipe at a steady beat. "Comrades," he said, voice traveling across the room. "We all talk about our dear human Annie still being alive, yet no one stops to ask 'how'? If I remember correctly, Britain said he was going to take care of her, da?"

"He's right!" America exclaimed, jumping into his chair and pointing at his fellow country. "Old man! What the hell did ya do?"

The blonde's back remained straight, through his eyes were looking downwards. It seemed as though there was a war raging inside of him. "I. . . I was going to kill her," he said at last. "I really was."

Scotland smacked his younger brother behind the head. "You're an idiot like always England," he sneered as Wales and Northern Ireland agreed.

France leaned into his chin, observing his enemy slyly. "What happened then, mon Angleterre?" he asked. For once, the Brit did not mind the nickname.

Britain took a deep breath and told his story.

* * *

><p><strong>February 5, 1942<strong>

**2 Years Ago**

Britain treaded through the snow covered ground. There had been a large snow fall that day, so the slush came up to the tips on his boots. Under the moonlight, the blond breathed a cloud of air and observed the address one last time. It corresponded to the house before him- perfect.

It took awhile to find the house address of Annabel Milano Henson, but after tracking a few bank records, he finally got it. Earlier that day, he came by the house and saw said girl leaving it in a hurry. In all truth, she looked to be in a terrible state. There were bandages on some parts of her body and a cast was on her ankle still.

But he didn't have time to think about that. At that moment, he had to secure the security of the country's existence. Britain sighed and walked up to the front door. He hovered his hand over the lock and muttered a spell: "Templum resero aperio recludo."

The lock undid itself and the blond walked in. He had to admit, the house was nice for a single person, though he couldn't see much. The only light came from the moonlight from the opened windows.

But he didn't come here to gaze at the sights, he had to kill her. Simple as that.

He figured she'll be in her room, sleeping. He started to creep up the stairs, doing his best not to create too much noise. "What are you doing here?" The person behind him had a male's voice- It couldn't be Annie. Slowly, Britain turned around and saw a man of equal height to him.

His hair was bleach blond, though the roots were turning brown. It was too dark to tell how the rest of his face was, though by his tone, Britain guessed it was uncaring. But he didn't see a man when he came by earlier. "Who are you?" the country asked.

"I should be asking you that," the man replied. "Since you are in my sister's house."

Sister? He couldn't be. If he remembered correctly, then this man was. . ."David Henson?" Britain asked.

The man nodded. "Yes- I actually prefer 'Rossi' -but who are you?" David asked again. His hand moved to his side and Britain saw the glint of a gun.

He gave him his human name, "Arthur Kirkland."

The brother thought for a moment. "You're a HETA, aren't you?" HETA? Britain did his best to remember what that meant. The description America gave him wasn't all that good, but it explained enough.

He didn't say anything in reply. David sighed. "You came here to kill the Kid, didn't you?" Britain nodded. "Please don't- it wasn't her fault." He bit his lip, trying his best to state his case. "The only thing she's ever known is death-" he took a seat on the steps and beckoned for Britain to join him. "-she saw our mom died at an early age you know." He paused. "And I think she has come to care for you and your friends a lot- more than anybody else in the world." It was plain he was over exaggerating, but the truth was there.

David sighed. "I told her that I kill them," he confessed. "Those four men I released- I told her that every single person she loved had died and she blamed herself." He chuckled. "Ragazza stupida. And she's a wreck right now because of it. I'm afraid she'll. . ." The brother trailed off, feeling as though he had said enough.

Britain rose to his feet. "I'm sorry," he said. "But there's too much at risk. I have to." He climbed a few more steps with a tense back. He was sure David was going to come up behind him and attack him.

But he didn't. Instead, the human said, "You know that blond I took was very strong." The country froze. "What was his name? My sources say it's Alfred F. Jones. He's you little brother, right?"

The blond gripped the stair railing fiercely. There was no reason he should have known that. Russia and Denmark had guaranteed that the attackers didn't even get their human names. How did he . . . his sources? Was it Annie? No, the Brit didn't believe she would tell him. "Alfred's not my brother," he said at last.

"But you still care for him." Britain was silent. He had convinced himself long ago that he didn't, but then again. . . "I'm right, aren't I? For obvious reasons, I can say I have a similar relationship trouble with my sister. Surly you can understand what it means to try to protect some and have it blow up in your face all together."

Britain started to climb again. He wasn't about to let this smooth talker get his way. This time, David followed him, his hand grabbing the other's neck roughly. Britain yelped before trying to hit him. The next words were whispered coldly into his ear: "I didn't want to do this Arthur, but you leave me no choice. The minute you lay a finger on my little sister I will make sure Alfred and everyone else you care about experience the most painful death possible ten times over."

Silence settled between them. Neither moved and neither spoke. The country tried to convince himself that the human was bluffing. But how could he be? He knew so much. There was no doubt in his mind that he would go through with it- the man cut off his own sister's ear.

He made his decision. "I wouldn't kill her," he said at last. "But I have to make sure she never speaks of this to anyone."

David released him. "She has refused to tell anybody of what happened," he stated. "But if you insist . . . just make sure you don't cut out her tongue or anything."

Britain reached into his pocket and pulled out a small hard cover book from his coat pocket. "Where is she now?"

The two men finished the climb up the stairs. David led him to a small bedroom. Lying beneath the covers was a sound asleep Annie. "She's a heavy sleeper," he explained when the other wondered how she could have stayed asleep through their argument.

Britain took a spot by her bedside. "I'm going to erase her memories," he said. "Don't ask me how. I'm going to remove anything that has to do with the um-" he couldn't tell him flat out about the countries. "-HETAs." The term felt awkward on his lips.

David nodded. "As long as she is in perfect shape."

The magic man started to flip through his book pages, trying to find the spell. "However, the memories will start to come back if she finds anything or anyone directly associated with us. So I'm going to have to confiscate any item that may trigger that." He shot the brother a look. "And if I find out she gained her memories back, then I will come back and I will kill her. Understand?"

"Crystal clear." He left the room, saying that he'll gather any items he thinks might do just that. In the meantime, Britain started his spell.

He took a small marker from his coat pocket and drew a magic circle on Annie's forehead. She groaned, but otherwise didn't notice. Softly, he chanted the spell. The air in the room sifted and the circle glowed a bright green color. When the final word was spoken, the markings disappeared from her forehead, leaving not the slightest trace.

David came back into the room with an old suit case in hand. "Here, I put the stuff in here." He opened it, and saw a maid outfit folded neatly on top of a folded, long black coat. The brother reached over the night stand and took off a small leather book. "My dad gave this to her when she was young," he explained. "She carries it around with her everywhere for some odd reason."

He also placed it in the case. But he wasn't done. Britain watched as he when over to his sister and unclasp her Iron Cross. "The same goes for this," he said before placing it inside as well. He closed the case and handed it to him.

"May we never see each other again Arthur Kirkland," David said when the two exited the house and were standing on the snow covered road.

Britain nodded. "Agreed."

Human and country walked away in their separate directions.

* * *

><p><strong>March 20, 1944<strong>

**Conference Room, Switzerland**

"Naw~!" America forcefully bear hugged Britain and nuzzled his neck. "Dude~! You'll do something like that for me?"

The encased blond gasped for air. His ex-brother was as strong as ever. "No you git!" he snapped, feeling his rips crack. He did his best to break free. "I did it for France- WHO ELSE WOULD I DO IT FOR?" The struggled between them continued and many other countries started to think it over. A few made a comment on how 'stupid' Britain was for doing something so reckless. Others praised him for the integrity he showed.

A ninja star dug its way into the back of America's hand. The nation cursed and released his victim. "Fuck," he swore, kissing the wound like a child. "What the hell was that for Japan?"

The Asia nation sat comfortably in his chair. His chin rested on his hand and he drummed his fingers impatiently on the table. He wore a black version of his normal navy uniform. "To put it quiet simply America, it's shameful the way you westerners place your feelings before your duties." Japan had long ago stopped using 'san' with anybody except his boss and Germany.

Sweden cleared his throat. "M' wife 'nd I 'gree-"

"I'm not your wife," Finland inserted.

"Th't we sho'ld st'p 'rgu'ng 'bout th' m'stakes of our pas' 'nd talk 'bout wha' we sho'ld do t' fix 'em." The room hushed. The Nordic had a point.

Switzerland cleared his throat and said, "Even though this meeting was supposed to be productive towards the end of this war, I agree that this matter of security is more important." He took a deep breath. "So, how are we going to fix this?"

Turkey was the first to offer. "Simple," he said. "We find the girl and kill her!" There was a mutter of agreement.

At the meeting leader's side, Lichtenstein voiced her objection. "But Miss Henson is a good girl," she pointed out. "Killing her would be too harsh."

Flamboyantly, Poland waved a lazy hand. "But didn't she like do a bunch of really bad stuff?"

Much to his ex-wife's disapproval, Austria nodded. "That's right," he agreed. "She betrayed our trust and kill Germany."

Hungary snapped quickly, "With what proof?"

"What proof are we missing?" Japan asked nonchalantly. "It seems as though we have all the proof we need-" A large ax flew across the room and lodged itself in the table, inches from his face. Japan didn't even blink. The owner stepped onto the table and walked across to retrieve it. The room was silent as they watched him do so.

Already tall, he towered over everyone else. He pulled the weapon out easily and swung it in large circles in an extravagant manner. A few nations had to duck in order to keep their heads. Finally, Denmark placed the ax over his shoulders. "Listen up," he ordered. "I was there when the whole exchange happen. I'm one of the few who actually have a reason to hate her. But you want to know something? I, Denmark: The King of Northern Europe; believe that Annie just has a psychopathic older brother."

"But Canada saw her kill Germany," America shouted. All around the room, arguments sparked up. A few retained their views awhile other pressed their own upon others. It was loud and the Swiss man was once again firing shots into the ceiling. Russia wasn't there to hush the again- he was talking calmly with Romano about something unknown.

As the volume slowly rise, so did the tensions. Britain was once again yelling at 'the Goddamn Frog' whereas Greece and Turkey were already first fighting. Seychelles suddenly stood in her chair and yelled, "I have something to say!"

It was loud for a moment longer until Russia called for all to shut-up. Immediately, they did. The girl in blue looked nervous for a moment. "I have to confess something," she said again as she twiddled with her thumbs. "For the Christmas of 1941, Turkey asked me to give him some poison-"

Turkey realized where she was going. "Don't-" he started before Egypt slapped a hand over his mouth.

"-and we put it in a box of chocolates and gave it to Greece." The room's disappointment was plain. That was all?

"'Chelles, ma belle," France cooed. "I know you must have felt guilty for that, but what does that have to do with the situation at hand?"

Spain realized it first. "Germany was poisoned with a box of chocolates," he informed.

Germany nodded. "Yes I was, but how do we know that it just isn't a coincidence?" he asked. A few said their agreements.

"I think I may be able to supply an answer," Egypt said before smacking the sleeping Greece behind the head. "Greece."

The brunette slowly woke. "W-what?" he mumbled in drowsiness.

"Did you give Annie a box of chocolates?"

The nation thought for a moment. "Annie?" he repeated. "Oh yes. . . I didn't. . .want. . .them. . . so . . . so I gave . . . them . . . to her. "

A few breathed a sigh of relief, while others whispered to their partners. Maybe she did it by accident. But why would she give them to Germany in the first place? What if she did know they were poisoned?

Sadiq cleared his throat. "That's great and all, but that changes nothing," he claimed.

"He's right." The reluctantly voice came from Britain. It seemed to pain him to admit it, but the country was a man of logic. "That does change nothing."

"The awesome me has a suggestion!" Prussia was no longer a country, true, but he was required to come to all of these meetings, though all he did was sulk in a corner and drink beer. The man jumped onto the table and drew his sword. For the second time that day, a weapon was stabbed into the wood.

There was no reason to why he would do such a thing- maybe because it looked cooler. When he had the room's forced attention, he proclaimed, "I believe the only way to do this is to have a trial."

Many muttered in shock, recognizing the term whereas younger countries like America yelled, "What the heck do you mean by a 'trail?'"

"For un-awesome reasons, we haven't had one for a long time," he explained. "It's basically where we do the American thing and take the person in question and have both sides debate if the human is guilty. If they're innocent, then we let them go. They don't have the majority vote, then the human must die by the hands of a nation."

"It's a good idea Prussia," Hungary said before pointing out, "But the reason we haven't had one in a long time is because France threw a fit last time it didn't work out."

The Frenchman defended: "Jeanne was innocent and you known it!"

Russia took Switzerland's place at the head of the table. "I've made our decision," he declared, having finished his conversation with Romano. "We'll have the trail. But before then we have to collect Annie and bring her here, da? Me, Romano, Britain, Prussia, China, and America will do that. Any objections?"

Normally, no one went against his word. However, Germany stood. "She's my maid," he declared. "She is my responsibility." With a grin, "And I'm not about to let her escape our contract. Therefore I will come with you."

"That's good," China huffed. "Because I'm not going-aru."

The Russian looked hurt. His friend wasn't joining him? Isn't standing by each other's side what friends do? He had hoped that China was his friend- and maybe something more. But perhaps his refusal was his way of showing him that he isn't afraid of the bigger country. With a sigh, Russia agreed. "Good, we leave now."

* * *

><p><strong>SEK<strong>: So I was thinking, instead of hiring a lawyer, we can avoid the murder charge a different way.

**MW**: *partially asleep* how?

**SEK**: We can use magic to revive BFTL!

**MW**: *talking in her sleep* yeah, yeah that's great Mexico now tell the readers to review.

**Fun Facts and Translations:**

"Come si chiama, Lei?" What is you're name?

"Mi chiamo David Henson." My name is David Henson

"Qualcosa non va?" Is something wrong?

"stupido uomo inglese?" Stupid British man

"You're weak without me and you'll always be weak." Nazi/Dark!Germany

"Templum resero aperio recludo" More Latin.

"Ragazza stupida" Stupid girl

"Japan had long ago stopped using 'san' with anybody except his boss and Germany" Fedual/Dark!Japan doesn't really respect anyone except said people, thus only they get the 'san'

"Th't we sho'ld st'p 'rgu'ng 'bout th' m'stakes of our pas' 'nd talk 'bout wha' we sho'ld do t' fix 'em." Failed Sweden talk. Translates to 'That we should stop arguing about the mistakes of our past and talk about what we should do to fix them.

"Jeanne was innocent and you known it!" I went there bitches.

**Next Chapter: **One word: Wedding

**REVIEW AND MAKE STAYING UP AT REDICULOUS TIMES AT NIGHT WORTH WHILE! **


	14. The Epic Marriage Chapter

**MW: **Now before you ask, YES! I AM UPLOADING A CHAPTER WITHOUT **SEK** PROOFREADING FIRST!

**SEK**: *muffled words* gagged

**MW**: Shut-up. I had this done last week, but you didn't proofread it. Yeah, I know finals are next week and that I had to write three one-shots for Xmas gifts, but at least those are going on the internet once I'm finished. Anyway, let's just turn this into a game. I wanna know who can point out the most typos

**SEK**: *muffle words*

**MW**: You can revive BFTL next chapter, when you actually proofread. Though, feel free to proofread even after this is posted. *looks around evilly* and since you can't hit me when I say this . . . READERS! You know what would make a great Christmas present? Fan art.

**Chapter Summary: **In which Annie and Ludwig have a reunion (naw~) (Okay, no naw)

**Warnings:** Language, butchering of marriages, death, blood, violence.

**Disclaimer:** Nope. Still no own Hetalia.

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 14~<strong>

**The Epic Marriage Chapter**

* * *

><p><strong>March 31, 1944<strong>

**Ipswich, East Coast of Britain**

I sat quietly at the steps of the water side church, thinking wistfully to myself. I was already clothed in my long, elegant wedding dress. It was obviously white with long silk sleeves and a skirt that fell limply down my legs. The train that flowed from the skirt was bundled onto my lap, giving me a soft pillow to rest my elbows on.

In most family situations, a funeral would have delayed a wedding, but as Rosa had most successfully explained, "My mother would kick your butts if you put such a matter before this." You had to admit that in the big work of things, it was the little things like this that made things simply sweet.

For a woman about to be married, I was in a rather sour mood. I had barely talked all day, only grunting when a bridesmaid asked me a question.

My stomach felt upset. Every move I made caused the vile inside to travel up my throat. There was adrenaline rushing through my veins and with no extraneous activity to be rid of it, the jitters painfully burned on. As Rosa piled my hair on top of my head, I stared out the window to the green grass country side and the ocean behind it.

The oxygen inside didn't feel right. I felt as though each breath was filled with a pollution of some sort: smoke, dust, everything but pure air. Eventually, the suffocating feeling became too much and I had to excuse myself, saying that I needed time alone.

As I sat, I filled my lungs to the brim with pure air and exhaling slowly. Why was I panicking so? I've never reacted like this before. Then again, I was about to get married. Was I having some sort of anxiety attack? And for something so simple? I didn't feel this way when I was going face to face with the Germans.

After a few quiet minutes, Rosa joined me outside and took a seat next to me. "You're going to ruin your dress," she said simply. I had to admire the way the girl approached each situation. Even so, I didn't reply. I continued my breathing regulations and gazed out to the distant ocean. It was perfectly idyllic. I could see the deep blue water at the horizon. Perhaps if my pounding heart would still I would be able to hear the waves- cigarettes.

My step-sister had shoved the beautiful pack in front of my face. "Take them," she ordered. "I can tell you're stressed." God love her.

Greedily, I took the pack and lighted one of the precious cigs. The tobacco traveled down my throat and mixed with my blood. As I exhaled the smoke, I felt a little calmer. I croaked, "Thank you."

She smiled and gave me a comforting hug. "You're welcomed; always," she cooed sweetly, kissing my temple. Her voice was beautifully mellifluous.

"What's wrong with me Rosa?" I asked, taking another long drag. "I . . . shit. I'm so scared."

Rosa wrapped an arm around me. "Its premarriage blues honey," she explained. The sweet scent of her blond hair filled my nose. "I went through it too. It'll wear off once you're marching down that aisle."

I sighed. "I hope so."

She smiled and kissed me again. "How about this: you stay out here as long as you need- even if it's a minute before we start, deal?" For once, I returned the smile. I liked it very much and agreed whole-heartily.

"Hey Annie, Rosa," my second cousin, Natalie, peeped her head out the large oak nut doors. "Wedding in fifteen minutes." I sighed and released the other woman.

I thanked her again and watched her return to the teenage girl. Natalie's elder sister, Sarah, closed the door behind them, saying, "Don't smoke the whole pack." Her head disappeared and I was alone.

I released another breath. Alone again. I took a few more moments to let my mind be blank, but eventually my thoughts when to how my life has been since that faithful reception. To me, the past couple of weeks had been a single blur of crying faces and the breath of David brushing against the back of my neck.

My brother had either gotten the idea that I was either no longer safe or no longer trust worthy since he followed me everywhere- going as far as to insist that I temporarily move back into Dad's mansion.

His blue eyes were always on me, trying to discover some secret that I had to tell. I would have called him crazy, but in truth, I had been keeping a secret.

In my dreams, I would hear familiar voices and experience familiar things. The only clear faces were Lovino, Arthur, and Feliciano. That would be a relief if they were the only people there, but they weren't. I had a loud mouth man, a tall demonic figure, an axe wielding giant, and so much more. The most consistent one was a robust, blond man.

He was at my bedside, holding my shirt collar, driving a car, and yelling at my face. I could tell that I didn't like him, yet there was a ball of pity rooted in my stomach, directed towards him. It was so abnormal and frightening.

"Howdy. What's up?" I glanced sideways and jumped a bit at the sudden appearance of a rather tall man. He had blond hair peeking out of a large cowboy hat and his thumbs stuck inside of his pants pockets. He was wearing a nice dress suit, rendering his ranch boots to be out of place."Can I have one?" he asked, pointing to my cigs.

I didn't know him, yet he seemed awfully familiar to me. Then again, all Americans (I knew by his thick accent) look- and acted -alike. For a moment, I stared into the blue eyes behind wired glasses. "Yeah. Sure," I muttered, handing him my pack.

The man took a seat next to me on the steps. "Aw, sweet!" With avarice, he stole the pack. He took out his own match box and lighted it. What kind of guy carries around matches, but no cigarettes? "So is today ya weddin' day?"

I was tempted to ask him how he knew that, but it occurred to me that I was outside a church in an elegant white dress. I took another breath. "Sure is," I replied unhappily.

The man took a long drag, enjoying the smoke. "Then why do ya look so sad?" he asked. God, why was he so familiar?

I felt my lips loosen completely. "I don't know. I just wish I-" I chuckled and tapped the brunt tip off "-don't know why I'm telling you this, but I guess I just want to run away from here. Take my boat and sail off to America." Actually, I was extremely tempted to do so, but my boat keys had been confiscated by you-know-who (read: David).

"Well Annie, why don't ya?" he asked, ignoring my indifferent atmosphere. Why was he so familiar? "I mean, ya'll have no regrets right?"

"No not really-" I paused, realizing something wrong. Very wrong. I started to stand, just to have the stranger grab my arm. With sheer panic written on my face, I looked down at him. His blue eyes were glaring at me. Shakily, I demanded, "How do you know my name? I never told it to you."

With no nonsense, "Sit down."

No, I was not going to let this strange man order me about. "No," I refused. "Give me a reason why I should."

"My name is Alfred F. Jones," he said, expecting the name to be significant to me in some way, though his name had a comforting ring to it. "I'm a friend of Arthur's."

"A-Arthur?" I stammered. Oh no. "As in Arthur Kirkland?" Alfred nodded before I snapped, "I told him to stay away."

He stood and tried to drag me away from the church... "No dude. I need ya to come with me." I dug my heels into the ground and fought back. My nails were dug into his arm, but it had little effect in releasing me.

I started to call for help when a hand, not Alfred's, was slapped against my mouth. The owner was behind me, away from my view. "Óvatos Alfred," a female warned. "You have to be more careful."

Alfred looked a bit shocked at the person behind me. "Elizaveta?" he asked. "What are you two doing here? You're suppose to be at the conference." I turned and saw that there were actually two people behind me. The first was a beautiful brunette and the other a nonchalant blond.

Elizaveta motioned to the blond behind her. "Vladimir and I were sent by Vash to tell you guys to hurry up," she explained.

The blond, Vladimir, added, "Seriously. You guys are taking forever. Can't you guys just snatch the girl and go?" Wait, are they talking about me? I gave him a crazy look. Vladimir had a curious accent and pointed fangs peeking from his mocking smile.

Alfred pouted. "Aw, come on Dude!" He cried, releasing my arm. Thank God, the American had a strong grip and probably gave me a hand shaped bruise. "We checked her place by she wasn't home for a week-" He was at my house? "-and when we heard she was getting married we figured that it would be cool if we crashed the wedding!" We? There are more of them?

Before I could hear anymore, I lifted my skirts and ran into the church. Luckily, the kidnappers didn't notice; too engrossed in their own problems. Inside, I saw that there were a few family members that I recognized, but I didn't pay much attention. I pushed a few people aside and found the elegantly dress suit of my father.

"Dad," I hissed, surprised that I found him alone. "I need to talk to you."

He turned and beamed at me like any father would. "Oh Annie," he chirped, cupping my face and kissing my cheeks. "You look lovely."

"I know," I replied testily before trying to tell my story. "I was outside and this American-" I noticed that he was leading me to the back of a line of women in pink dresses. . . My bridesmaids. "-Dad, what are you doing?"

He gave me a 'are you crazy' look. "It's traditional for the bride to go last down the aisle," he told me. Wait, was my relax time already up? Aw shit. If these people were going to cause trouble then this wedding needed to stop. Now.

I groaned. "Right. Dad, I need to tell you something."

Once again, he cut me off. "I need to tell you something too." He affectionately brushed my cheek, making me forget my problems for a second. His eyes soften as he gently spoke. "I know that you didn't choose Walter, but I do need you to know that he really does love you."

With a sigh, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm just trying to say this: I know you will be happy, but know that you'll only be safe if you stay with him." He looked me dead in the eye and pulled my white veil over my face. I didn't noticed him leading me into the nave (quick definition: the area of the church that all of the pews and worshiping takes place in). His expression was serious, the most serious that I've ever seen. "Promise your old man that you'll never leave him."

I bit my lip, feeling a bit of guilt. "But Dad," I said, brushing aside my contrite feeling. Unconsciously, I accepted a bouquet of flowers from Rosa. "How would being with him make me safe?"

He embraced me quickly, before whispering into my ear, "You'll find out with time." The moment he released me, my arm was hooked with his and I was being escorted down the aisle. The congregation was standing, marveling at how pretty I looked.

In the over head balcony where the choir usually sings, a hired musician was playing the wedding march. For some reason, it felt jumpy, as if the artist was nervous about something himself. My brain stopped as I was faced with the sudden shock of getting married.

We moved slowly, walking over the flowers Caroline had thrown onto the ground. I could recognize each face clearly, but none as clearly as Walter's. He looked refine and dashing in a clean and pristine. His best man was my brother, also smiling at me happily. Both men beamed as I slowly got closer to them.

My legs were screaming to turn around and run, but my head refused to listen. There was an inner war, part of me saying that I should go along with this. The other saying that I had to stop the wedding. Geeze, since when was I so conflicted?

Finely, my father gave me away and I hooked arms with my fiancé. Walter had the happiest look on his face mixed with his normal stern one. It almost sparkled. We walked a few steps before reaching the alter. I gave my bouquet to my maid of honor, Rosa, who looked proud alongside Natalie and Sarah.

I felt him give me a comforting squeeze and he and I stood before the priest, a rather young man with dark hair with his head low and face hidden behind bulky wired glasses. Was it just me, or was he hiding his face from me?

The priest cleared his throat and said in a gruff voice, "Mister Walter Nicholas Alwin and Miss Annabel Milano Henson- Today you enter as individuals, but you will leave here as husband and wife, blending your lives, expanding your family ties, and embarking upon the damn-" he coughed. "-I mean grandest adventure of human interaction."

I shifted on my feet. Alright that was . . . odd. From a large, old bible, the wedding commenced. The priest read scriptures aloud calmly, occasionally correcting himself over some 'mispronunciations' that sounded a lot like swears. I was not the only one to find this strange-I noticed David giving small glares aimed at the Holy Father.

I was on the edge. Alfred, Elizaveta, and Vladimir were still on my mind. Were they going to do something here? Right now? I wanted to nudge Walter and tell him about it, but there was sheer concentration drawn on his face. A hymn was sung and finally came the main attraction of the wedding.

The priest finally addressed me, the bride, "Do you, Annabel Milano Henson, take Walter Nicholas Alwin to be your husband? To have and to hold from this day forward? To love, comfort, and honor? For better or for worse? For richer or for poorer? In sickness and in health? To grow with you in love, as long as you both shall live?

The church was silent as they waited for me to give the reply. Remember, I didn't really have a choice in the manner. I was forced into this, so of course I opened my mouth to give my 'I do'.

But I never got the chance.

Then, in an extremely cliché manner, a clear voice rose from the back of the church.

"I object." In shock, I turned and gasped. Striding down the aisle confidently was a tall, robust man. He wore a long black trench coat and his blond hair was slicked back away from his face. There was a frown drawn clearly, though there was a smirk in his eyes. To every one's horror, especially my own, there was a red Nazi arm band on his sleeve.

My words were trapped in my throat. This man was the one from my dreams (damn that sounded romantic). I could feel Walter tense as he pushed me safely behind him. I noticed David reaching for a gun that was not there. The congregation was on their feet, muttering and gasping at his obvious political alliance.

"Who are you?" A few people, mostly Walter, demanded. There was a fierceness I've never heard before in his voice.

The German stopped at the middle of the church and smirked. "My name is Commander Ludwig," he introduced. My eyes grew wide. That name was familiar and I tried to remember anything about him. Nothing came to mind.

Rodger pushed his way from his pew and into the aisle, blocking his path to the altar. "What are you doing here Nazi?" he sneered. A few men stood behind him in support.

Ludwig's eyes landed on me. "I have a contract with her," he stated. "And I will be taking her now."

"Lucky~" Natalie yelled, looking rather excited, yet disdained. "I would love to marry a hunk like that." Many gave the American a crazy look.

Sarah sighed and smacked her, saying, "Me too sis, however that was not what he meant." For some reason, a humored smirk appeared on Ludwig's face.

David, James, and a few others joined Rodger in his human barrier. "What contract?" David demanded, rolling up his sleeves in preparation for a fight. I had to admit, my brother can get a little too protective of me at times. Then again, with the situation at hand, I was grateful for it.

I didn't hear the reply, as Walter looked to my left and gasped. "Arthur?" he demanded, looking shock. My eyes traveled his gaze and I also did suit. Arthur Kirkland was standing at the left exit door, guarding it along side with Alfred F. Jones.

"_If there are people guarding that door, doesn't that mean. . ." _With that thought, I looked to my right and saw Vladimir guarding the other exit with a tall, demonic man in a brown trench coat. He was baby faced and armed with a blood stained pipe. "_This is bad_," I thought, taking a few steps back.

Suddenly, I felt my arms restrained. I turned and saw my captor was the priest. Behind his wired glasses, I recognized a familiar scowl. "Lovino?" I gasped.

"Like hell it's me," he snapped efficiently. Even in a church, he still cursed. He took my arm and tried to sharply drag me away. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

Oh hell no! I was not being kidnapped on my wedding day! With a free hand, I lifted my skirt, giving me a clear range to kick the Italian where it mattered. He cursed and to his credit, didn't cry like a baby. Lovino stopped and roughly grabbed me by my shoulders. "What the fuck was that for?" he demanded loudly.  
>His screaming attracted Walter's attention. I didn't notice. All around us, the brawl. Mostly, the men of my family were trying to fist fight with Ludwig, assisted by the demonic pipe wielder and hyperactive Alfred. Even though they were significantly out numbered, the crashers were easily fighting them off. The church walls echoed all the cries women and children as they tried to find a way out, but all of the exits were guarded.<p>

"Let go of me!" I demanded. "I told you to leave me alone!"  
>Lovino glared at me for a second before yelling, "Like I have a choice, bitch! What matters is that we get you back for that Goddamn trial!"<p>

"Trail?" I laughed cruelly. "If you think that for one moment that I'm going to throw away everything for you, you-" I struggled to find the right word. "-Monsters? Then-" A hand was clasped roughly around my throat. My air ways were constricted and I couldn't breathe. My veil fell off my head and I clawed at the hand.

"Shut the fuck-up!" Was what Lovino yelled.

"Annie!" Is what Walter yelled.

Either way, Walter lunged towards us, eager to save his not-yet-married-to-wife. However, the moment his hand gripped the collar of Lovino's robe, there was a roaring bang that ranged throughout the church halls. The children broke into louder wails at the sudden noise. I struggled away from the Italian and caught my fiancé before he hit the ground. My breath way short and I was dizzy from the sudden surplus of oxygen.

"Walter?" I croaked, panic seeping into my voice. Luckily, he was still alive, though color had drained from his face.

He grinned weakly. "Are you alright?" he asked, laughing ever so slightly. His glasses were slipping off his nose and crooked.

I pushed it back up his face. "You idiot," I scolded, feeling my eyes watered with fright. "I should be asking you that." I suddenly started to undo his blazer. "Where are you hurt?"  
>He laughed, but it was obviously forced. "I'm fine," he assured, attempting to quell my fears. "I don't feel a thing." I finally tore the suit off and scanned his white shirt. The red stain forming over his stomach was clear. He had been shot.<p>

"You're in shock," I said finally, feeling myself chock up. I felt a few tears over flow and fall down the brim of my cheek. It took of all my courage to lie: "But you'll pull through."

Lovino glared down at us for a moment longer before yelling across the church, "Gilbert! What the hell was that?"

I glanced up and saw Elizaveta and an albino, presumingly Gilbert, in the choir's balcony. Gilbert was holding aiming a sniper riffle at anybody who got too close to his allies. No wonder the musician sounded jumpy; he was cowering in fear a feet few away. He reloaded the gun, saying, "It's not awesome to kill people in churches!" Well looks as though someone is a little too religious.

"Let's get going!" That was the demonic figure yelling, his Russian voice a little too gleeful for the situation at hand. I quickly checked to see if Walter was still alive and saw his weak smile painted all over his face. I held his hand, whispering assurances that he was going to be okay.

A strong arm wrapped itself around my stomach and lifted me off the ground. I kicked and punched away at the arm until its owner, Ludwig, snapped at me to calm down. "Stop fighting," he demanded, holding me bridal style (oh how ironic). "I have to get you out of here."

"No!" I screamed back as the other fighters started to make their way out the door. "I'm not leaving him." The German seemed to realize who I was talking about, but he made no mood to carry Walter as well. Instead, Alfred scooped the man over his shoulder, saying how he such a hero he "couldn't leave other heroes behind."

Carried by Ludwig, I was taken out of the church by the side entrance and quickly saw two black cars parked and waiting for us. Ludwig shoved me into one before jumping into the other. Alfred climbed into ours with Walter, along with Vladimir who stole shotgun. Lovino took the driver's seat and we spend away.

I glanced out the back window and saw Elizaveta, Arthur, and the Russian man climbing into Ludwig's car. Like the Italian he was, Lovino floored the car, making me slam painfully into the seat.

Ludwig had a little trouble keeping up with us, maybe ten feet behind. They drove behind us for awhile before turning down another road. Once they were gone, I saw another two cars trailing behind them. Those cars turned down the road behind us. "What the bloody-" I started to mutter.

Alfred saw what I was looking at before he quickly explained, "That's your hommies no doubt. They probably think you're in that car." I seat myself back in my seat properly. Did I want Dad to come after me? No doubt he is among them, but would I go back with him? God, I didn't know.

I didn't even have time to think about that. I glanced back at Walter. Alfred had laid him so that his legs were over his lap and his head resting on mine. His eyes were closed and cold sweat fell off his brow. "Stay alive," I told him, feeling his chest rise and fall with effort. "You'll be okay." I started to formulate an escape plan. I was far outnumbered. I could open the door and jump out, but then I would be leaving Walter behind.

Said man opened his eyes and resumed his smiling. "I have a question to ask you," he said. "I hope it doesn't sound too French." My fiancé chuckled painfully and I gave a forced one, attempting to make both of us feel better. The tone of his voice suggested that this was his last request.

I brushed a look of loose black hair from his face. "As long as you promise to hang on," I replied softly. I didn't notice it, but tears were starting to fall from my eyes and splash silently on his face.

The car was oddly quiet as Walter asked his question. "If we were a normal couple, would you still love me?" My own heart stopped beating. Walter. . . he loved me? He wasn't merely just putting up with me because he had to? The man had legitimate feelings? "Would you say 'I do' because you loved me?" he continued. "Not because you had to?" Alfred sang an 'aw~'.

Words clogged my throat. There were a million things I wanted to say, but nothing could reach my mouth. I was trembling, and the most I could do was press his forehead against mine and cry harder. "Of course," I said. I wasn't even sure if the words were true, it just seemed right to say them. "Of course I would! So you can't die on me! You have to live so that it'll happen, alright? You hear me? No dying!"

He smiled, comforted by my words. He kissed my nose- apparently my cheeks and lips were too far away. "I was hoping you'll say that." His words were curt, yet sincere. I actually believed for a second there that he really was going to live.

But it was only a second.

"What's wrong Vladimir?" Alfred asked, peering up at the passenger's seat. I turned my gaze to the blond and saw that he was tense. I could see his hand was in a fist, turning white at the pressure. I looked at the rear view mirror and saw that his reflection showed his pupils to be dilated and his eye color was completely gone.

Vladimir turned to us and sniffed the air. He lunged out of his seat, nearly hitting Lovino, and latched himself onto Walter. To my horror, he dung his sharp fangs into the soft skin of his neck. I screamed and tried to push him away, but the apparent vampire clung on, determined to get his blood. "Stop Romania!" Alfred yelled, reaching over to the man and wrapping his arms around him.

The American pulled him away and onto his lap, restraining his arms. I quickly looked at the damage done. From what I could tell, when Vladimir was being pulled away, he didn't retract his fangs, causing a whole chunk of Walter's neck to be bitten away. I grabbed his wrist and check for a pulse.

There was none.

I froze while the rest of the world continued on.

Vladimir opened the door a crack and spit out the chunk of human meat. He'll later explain to me that he just liked the blood, not the meat. "What the hell Romania!" Alfred swore, holding back the still fighting man.

"His blood," the other moaned, trying to lung forward back at us. I scooted farther away from him and held Walter's dead body protectively. "It smells good. It smells so good." He repeated his words over and over again as he continued to fight Alfred's hold.

It seemed to go on forever. All the while I held Walter, whispering in his ear for him to wake up, to stop messing with me and stay awake. He couldn't be dead. Not yet. Not now.

At last the car pulled over to a small cliff that over looked the ocean. Alfred climbed out of the car, dragging the crazy man with him and pinning him to the ground. "Calm down dude," he ordered, digging his knee into his back and pressing his face into the dirt. Lovino stepped out as well and ordered for me to join them.

"No," I refused, holding Walter tighter. I glared at him and demanded, "What the hell is going on?"

Lovino scowled. "We'll explain when you get the fuck out there bitch," he urged.

I climbed further into the car. I repeated a "No".

Vladimir was finally calm enough, breathing normally and returning to his normal self. Alfred released him and he didn't flinched and make another lunge. Now the hero was going to fix the Italian's problem. He went to the trunk and gave a triumphed laugh when he found his target. "I knew it was in this car!" he exclaimed, returning to my line of sight with an old suit case in hand. I owned one just like that though I thought I lost it years ago.

"_That is mine,"_ I realized as the American squatted to the ground and opened it. He placed a few things to the side before holding up an old maid outfit for me to see. It was- in one word- skanky.

"Remember this?" he asked. "You wore this to Finland's Christmas party." I stared at it. Yes, I did remember it. Very vividly in fact. . .

_Ludwig pointed at the maid outfit. "Why don't you wear that?" he suggested. I held it up to him, exclaiming all of the reason why I shouldn't. "What else can you wear?" he resorted. __ "The minute you back to the ballroom with that on-" he motioned to my blood covered dress "-Romania is going to snap and attack you." He flicked his newspaper back over his face. "And it certainly won't win you any points with the other nations."_

_"And this will?"_

_"Ja. Especially the guy ones." _

My heart pounded against my ribs. Oh my God. I've met Ludwig before too? But that was right. . The incident at Finland, it was a Christmas party. A shrimp named Tino was hosting it and he gave me a switch blade, because apparently he was Santa Clause.  
>"Annie." That was Alfred again. "If you come out here, you can see the rest." I wanted to know more so badly. I took the bait, gently laying Walter on the car floor and slowly inching my way out. I stepped onto the soft grass and crouched to the ground, looking at the other items. Lovino said something about continuing with the escape, but Alfred hushed him, telling him to "give me a minute to remember."<p>

I brushed my hand over the first item, a long black coat. It was so familiar. I picked it up and pressed my face to the cloth. Even after all of these years it still smelled of soot and vodka.

_"I was trying to save Lithuania." Ivan's eyes gazed out at the still burning house wistfully. "But I confused him for you." _

The demonic man wielding the pipe! That was Ivan! More memories flooded in with it. I remembered being thrown off my motorcycle, being tortured, and talking to the Russian about why he helped Lithuania. Wait, there was a man named Lithuania? No, that can't be right. Who would call their child that?

The next item was an old, leather bound book. This. . . I haven't seen this since I was a child! I swore I lost this when I was in Germany, so what was it doing here?

_Ludwig placed a hand on the door knob and looked at me, saying, "And a piece of advice: lies always have holes in them, holes that I will find. The truth however is the one thing the world cannot argue against, no matter how improbable it may seem. Annie, when you want to tell me the whole truth, I will listen, until then-" He flashed me a look that read pure evil. "-I will rip apart whatever life you had to find it."_

I didn't stop to think about this one. Almost everything was fully remembered. Just once more and I could unlock everything completely. I dropped the book and wrapped my hand firmly around the last item. It was an Iron Cross. It killed me to think that I had forgotten about this completely. The edges dug into my palm and the metal was cold against my skin.

_"Then how about this: Annie-san will work for us as our maid in exchange for an exit visa."_

_"But anyways, I don't give a damn about it. If people don't like me, then why should I care?"_

"_Would you like to know why I don't believe you? I know Germany and he doesn't pity people. He doesn't pity men, children, Jews, or Russian soldiers."_

_"Nah it's fine, I just forget that humans have a different definition of family."_

_"Alfred! Don't you die on me! Don't you fucking die on me! Heroes don't die!"_

_"Well. . . How do I tell you? The HETAs that your brother captured, they attacked him and he was force to kill them and leave their bodies behind."_

_"We are our countries. We grow, live, and die like them."_

That last item- the relict I held with me everywhere I went. It was the last trigger, causing the majority of my forgotten memories to come back to me. I looked up to the three men, or I guess countries. "Romano?" I asked. "America? Romania?" A thought occurred to me. "How the hell are you guys still alive?"

Alfred or I guesses America, smiled broadly, revealing his pearly whites. "She remembers!" He exclaimed, opening his arms to the heavens, as if thanking God.

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Why did the damn potato bastard know you were going to say that?" he asked no one in particular, before quoting in a mocking voice, "'Just because I said we could die doesn't mean that we stay dead.' Stupid bastard."

The thought was crazy. "How does that make any sen-" The gun shot rang loud through our ears. Alfred's hand went to his chest, and for the second time in my immediate memory, a spot of blood gathered at his chest. He fell to his knees, gasping for air.

I dropped the Iron Cross and jumped to my feet. I turned and saw the shooter- a group of men walking away from a parked car a few yards from us. They were lead by Dad. His wedding suit was disheveled and in his hand he held a pistol. The others wielded heavier fire. In total there were five supporters to the one man.

Lovino's stance turn to that of a fist fighter and Vladimir rose to his feet, his pupils huge, but not dilated. He probably could smell the blood, but it wasn't driving him crazy like before. The American stood proud on his feet, seemingly unphased by the bullet. "It'll take more than that to kill me!" he shouted. There was sweat brimming on his brow. It occurred to me that even though he didn't show it, he was in incredible pain.

I stood dumb struck. "How are you still standing?" I shrieked, visibly panicking. I had no idea what I was going to do. Should I join the countries or my family? Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. . .

Dad's eyes were cold, but there was gentleness to them. Quickly, he ordered, "Shoot the heads; it'll take longer for them to heal that way." By the way the nations flinched, I knew that it must be true. "And do not shoot my daughter."

Lovino grinned evilly, cracking his knuckles. "So you're the stronzo who kidnapped my fratello?" he asked. No one answered- it wasn't meant to be. He addressed his wounded ally, "So Alfred, if Vlad and I take care of these assholes then will you stay here and keep the cagna company?"

The American scowled. "And let you guys be there heroes? No-" he stopped when he saw the glare seeping from the Italian. "Alight," he gave in. "I'll stay back."

Vladimir gave a pout before glaring at them both. "Can we keep this clean?" he asked. "I'm already full." Why were they talking about this aloud? They must either be idiots or they fully believe that they'll win. I didn't know whether to be scared or grateful.

The Henson men started firing their shots. Lovino and Vladimir dashed head on towards them. Alfred pulled me away from the fire, hiding me behind him. I noticed that Dad was nowhere to be seen. I peeked out and saw Lovino kicking one man in the stomach while snatching his gun from him. That cost him a bullet to the chest, but he was still standing.

The appearance of blood made the vampire snap slightly. Alfred tensed as Vladimir fought with no regard to human life. He quickly snapped one man's neck and threw his body into another. Even though he had a million chances to steal a fire arm, he didn't. Locking another in a head lock, he kicked one man in the neck before snapping that of his victim's.

Meanwhile, Lovino stumbled before attempting to throw the gun to Alfred. Another man caught it and shot the mafia fighter in the head. He went down and didn't come back up. I bunched my dress in my fist, trying my best not to cry out. If I did, I might distract someone and cost them their lives.

"_I don't want anyone to die",_ I realized. The fact should have made me bubble with mirth. I wasn't a monster! But instead it rooted in my stomach and made me horrified. I didn't know what side I was on. I didn't care whether I was the good guy or bad guy; I just wanted a place to stand, a side to root for.

Alfred clenched his fist. "They're going to lose," he muttered, tensing and sweating like a sinner in church. I could tell that he didn't like where the fight was going. He also didn't like the death. I took a quick head count. Of the five that started on the Henson side, three were already down.

"Stay right here," the hero ordered suddenly. I watched as he left my side and ran to the battle. Alfred held no regard to his injury as he reached down and grabbed a discarded gun. He shot one man in the head- a quick, painless death -before shouting, "I knew that the hero should have joined the fight sooner!"

The last man standing threw his life away running up to Vladimir and drawing his pocket knife. He was able to dig it deep into the Romanian's eye before Alfred shot him.

Vladimir fell to the ground with a thud. Worried about his fellow nation, he bent to the injured man, his own chest still bleeding incessantly. They exchanged hushed words before Alfred shot him in the head._ "He must had been sparing him the pain",_ I assured myself. Surly, Lovino (or I guess Ludwig) was right and the two countries would wake up. They had to. I can't lose anyone else.

It was silent for a moment as Alfred stood weakly back to his feet. The man gave me a victorious smile. "I'm always the hero," he said, a mocking tone in his voice. I wanted to shout something back to him, even if it was an insult, but nothing came to mind. He walked a few more feet before stopping. Face turning dark, he glared at me . . . or rather, some one behind me.

Alfred made no move to raise his gun, yet his body tensed in the anticipation of doing so. With the same tone he used at Pearl Harbor, he growled, "What kind of sicko shots their own daughter?"

"What?" I exclaimed, turning around haft way to see my father standing behind me, aiming his pistol at my head. My blood ran cold. Dad wouldn't shoot me . . . would he?

The human glared back at the country. Coolly, he replied, "Well toss your weapon here and maybe we wouldn't have that problem." He was using me as leverage?  
>"Don't!" I shouted. The days I spent with the Allies floated to my mind. Alfred was my friend, maybe the best one of all. I couldn't let him die here. "The minute you do, he'll shoot you!"I hoped that he'll listen to me and not his hero complex.<p>

The blond took a second to think it over. It was silent. Time lost a meaning as seconds became years. Once, I looked at the group of dead men, hoping that maybe they'll wake-up and save the day. I prayed for the American not to be an idiot. Finally, Alfred smiled. "Promise me you'll be the hero Annie," he said, grinning too happily for my comfort.

He tossed the gun. It landed with a loud 'clank' a few feet from me. I looked down at the weapon, horrified at what he just did. As my eyes shot back at him: "You do know that you just guaranteed your death right?"

The America laughed. "Heroes don't die!" he yelled before another gunshot ranged out. He fell to the ground with a slug in his head and a smirk on his face. I gasped and covered my mouth with my hands. Dad sighed as he reloaded his gun.

"I thought he'll never shut-up," he growled before placing it back in its holster.

I fell to my knees and my mouth fell open in shock. I stared at the American's body. "Alfred wanted to die?" I muttered it softly under my breath, hoping to maybe comprehend that reason. "W-why would leave me here?"

Dad knelt down to my height and embraced me. "I'm sorry dear," he whispered, petting my hair like a doll. "I had to." Even though I knew he was going to live, I was still shock at his 'death'. When was he and the others going to 'wake-up'?

Tears welled to my eyes and I let out a loud sob. Willingly, I hugged him back, burying my face in his chest. "No," I cried, senses returning to me. I clenched my fist in frustration. "No you didn't!" I shoved him away.

I now knew what side I was on. It wasn't his.

The parent stared back in fake shock, as if he knew I was going to do this. My hand searched the ground behind me as I asked, "Why?" I sounded desperate. "Why have you gone through with-" I motioned to the mess around us. "-this? What do you have to gain from it?"

"Everything," he snapped back quickly. My stern look loosened. Seriously? Out of all of the excuses out there, he chose something so unoriginal? "Everything I care about is on the line here, Annabel."

For a second, I lowered the gun. "You told me that there were monsters out there," I whispered, recalling the night Mom died. "They hated the human race and wanted to control them. But, but-" I raised the gun back at him. "-You are the monster. You want nothing more than to hurt everyone around you and make them do what you want." I gripped the gun's butt. Angry tears fell from my eyes. I shouted, "Look around you! Everyone here is dead because of you! Alfred, Lovino, your men, Walter; everyone! All of this is your fault! Everything. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't end it here."

Dad didn't answer me.

It was silent, save for my stiff sobs. Tears made lines down my face, washing away my rouge and sweat. I must have looked silly at that moment- dressed in a wedding gown covered with blood and dirt. Everything was surreal, as if I was floating in some dream world made only for this one moment.

My finger tensed on the trigger. The metal was cold, heartless. Shakes rattled my body as I tried to contained myself.

The gun was lowered. "I'm sorry," I sobbed, speaking to Alfred's corpse. "I can't. I can't kill him. He may have. . ." I choked on my words and dropped the sentence. "But I'm not a monster. But I'm not a hero either. I. . . I just can't."

My dad looked down at me, pity in his eyes. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Maybe he was thinking about how disgraceful his daughter looked; how she stared at him straight in the eye as she cried from her own. I wondered if he was trying to see how he can turn this to his advantage.

"Well look what the awesome me discovered." My head shot to the right and I saw Gilbert standing tall and proud with a large gun at his side. How did he get here? I didn't remember him getting into any car at all. The Prussian's face was red, so I guess he ran. But it was such a far distance, how could he?

Dad didn't move. Not even to steal a glance at the new arrival. Aimlessly, the platinum blond walked towards us, chatting away. "You know, you and your daughter have caused me and my bruder a lot of trouble and that's not awesome. Very unawesome." He laughed. "You want to know something? Even though she killed my bruder, I'm going to be the awesome one and make sure that she lives. So just step away and we can pretend you never met the awesome me."

My heart stopped beating. Gilbert was going to save me? And not only that, but try to keep me alive? Even though I accidentally (not that he knows that) killed Ludwig? "_Why_?" I wondered. "_This really isn't his kind of thing_."

I noticed Dad clenching his fist. There was a look of rage in his eyes and a word yearning to be formed on his lips. He took a step back and his hands reached for his pocket. I realized what he was doing before the country did.

Quickly, I lifted the gun in my hands and fired. Dad had his gun fully drawn and pointed at Gilbert. He also fired. Gilbert went wide in the eyes and barely had his gun raise before he stumbled.

One man fell.

This time, I didn't scream. A cold silence laid over the land. Not even the ocean waves crashing against the cliff made any noise. The leaking in my eyes stopped completely. I gazed in shock. Gingerly, I crawled to the dead man. I brushed a hand along his cooling cheek. I swallowed before croaking his name.

"Dad."

Gilbert was bending over, a hand over his knee where he was shot. He was cursing German swears under his breath. After bearing through the pain for a minute, he finally sat on his butt and addressed me. "Are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded and started to inch away from the corpse. Something grabbed my hand.

I glanced down and saw that Dad was watching the sky with a vacant look. His large hand grabbed mine and a finger drew shapes on my skin. "I'm sorry," was his last words before his hand released mine. Gilbert and I watched him for a minute, expecting him to jump back to life at any second.

We were silent. He didn't move.

At last, I crawled away from him and took a spot next to Gilbert. "Thank you," I muttered, hugging my legs close to my chest.

The other tore off the bottom of my train and used to wrap his wound. "Thank you who?" he asked, not even bothering to look up at me.

I sighed. Always with the ego. "Thank you, O Great Kingdom of Prussia."

He smiled in victory. "I guess you remember everything them?"

"Yeah." We sat in silence for what felt like a long time. I could feel the life leaving the corpse nearby. Multiple times, Gilbert asked me if we should place a coat or something over his head. Every time I shook my head, convincing myself that he wasn't worth the effort.

The stress of the day weighed heavily on my eyelids and I leaned against his shoulder. I dozed for awhile until I heard a car in the distance. I opened my eyes to see it come just over the horizon. It drove on the dirt road and pulled over the side when they saw the sight. At first, I thought it might be ordinary pedestrians, but when a familiar pair of eyebrows appeared out of the passenger's side, I knew we were among friends.

"_If I even had their trust still,_" I thought sourly, rising to my feet. Gilbert and I met them haft way. They looked exhausted, their clothes covered with dirt and blood splatters. A small smile formed on my lips when I realized that I was able to place names to the faces: Arthur, Ludwig, Ivan, and Elizaveta. It even felt good to know which country they were as well.

Automatically, I gave Elizaveta a hug, wrapping my tired arms around her small waist. She was startled for a moment, but warmed up quickly enough. She petted my hair. "Sorry for earlier," she whispered affectionately.

I shook my head. "No. I deserved it."

Ludwig was conversing softly with Gilbert, whispering in harsh tones. By the sound of it, they were in an argument. Arthur looked between us and them curiously, muttering about how they were always fighting. Ivan was the one to ask, "Did you remember anything?"

I broke away from the hug. "Yes," I confirmed, doing my best to sound calm and professional. "Alfred gave me the suit case filed with my possessions."

"Then you can effective explained what happened." That came from Ludwig. His voice was flat and demanding. His ice eyes sent shivers down my spine. Since when was he so scary? All confidence had gained before melted away. My voice grew small as I slowly told my tale, starting from when we jumped into the car to when I pulled the trigger.

They were all silent, even long after I finished. "Poor girl," Elizaveta cooed, pulling me into another hug. "When we drove onto the other rode we got into another battle," she explained. "It was very bad, but no one died."

I wanted all conversations about death to stop. Changing the subject, I commented on her better English skills. She beamed at me, thanking me for the compliment. The next few minutes were spent gathering the rest of our thing since; apparently, I have a trial to attend.

All of them except Arthur and I were lifting the dead countries onto their shoulders. I stood by the car, staring into the back seat. Walter's long cold body was lying in a pool of blood. He really was dead. By force of habit, I nervously twisted the ring on my finger. Just to think, if things had gone well, we would be married by now.

Arthur's presence joined my side. His hand rested on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said, also staring at the corpse. "I want to heal him- I really wish I could."

I asked in a monotone voice, "Then why don't you?" It was selfish of me to ask.  
>The Brit looked sad, even distressed for a moment. "Magic can heal the body and bring his functions back to working," he explained. "But no amount of magic can bring the human soul back to life. He'll just be a lifeless lump." For a moment, I stared at him, shocked. It was hard to lose someone, but even harder to refuse to bring them back.<p>

Arthur flashed me a smile. "But if it's any comfort to you, Walter was a really nice guy. Probably one of the best humans I've met this century."

For some reason, that brought an ounce of peace to me. "Thank you," I said, smiling slightly. "But Arthur, you promised to stay away. Why didn't you?"

He sighed. "I had no choice. We went to a conference and the world was wondering what had happened and Italy told them about you."I nodded, accepting the excuse. I had hoped too much to really expect them to stay away.

I turned my back to the car and bent to the ground where my processions were laid out. "So what is this trial you guys keep mentioning?" I asked.

Arthur joined my on the ground. "Well we started the trial system when humans started to question our authority," he explained. "Basically if they commit a crime against us then we put them through a trial to prove their guilt."

I nodded and folded the maid-skank-outfit into a neat square. "So I'm on trial for the whole Finland thing?" He nodded in confirmation. Shit. I sighed and started to think. So basically, I had to prove I was innocent to the people I commit the crime against? How was that fair? "How good are my chances?"

The Brit bit his lip. "Not very," he said as he laid Ivan's long black coat over my shoulders. I immediately pulled my arms through the sleeves, allowing the warmth flood my body. He rubbed a hand on my back. "But I think you have a fair chance."

Arthur picked up the Iron Cross. His eyes studied the medal carefully. "I have a confession to make," he said before explaining how he took my memories away from me. "A lot of this is my fault."  
>I took the cold chain from his hands and clasped it around my neck. "No it isn't," I replied, haft ignoring his comment. I was more concern to what David was doing in my house in the first place. I took the suit case in hand and stood. "I think I have everything."<p>

He joined me, picking up another item from the ground. "What about this?" he asked, holding out my leather book for me to see.

The book was placed in my hands. I ran a hand over its spine. It seemed damp, yet the pages were a crisp dry. Why did I carry this around with me for all those years? I it meant nothing to me now. A memento to my Dad? My mom?

I threw the book in the air and it landed a few feet away at the edge of pool of blood. "I don't need it," I huffed.

Arthur looked mildly confused, but didn't get a chance to say anything. "Let get going," Ludwig ordered, carrying a dead Lovino over his shoulder. "We don't want to be caught here in this mess." I was a little shocked at how little care he showed, but brushed it aside when I was led to the edge of the cliff.

"How are we getting out of here?" I asked, realizing that there was no room in the car for all of us.

Ivan, with Alfred in his arms, gave his childish smile. "By that," he said, pointing out over the cliff.

I followed his gaze and smiled. The cliff side had a wooden stair case winding down the side, leading to a small dock. Anchored there, away from all of the rocks, was my baby. "My boat?" I questioned, seeing _the Arsenius_ written clearly on its side. "How in the world did you get it?"

The Russian's smile only grew larger. "You know it was still docked at Britain's sea port," he explained, starting to climb his way down the steps. Figures.

Nimbly, I followed them. Gilbert was carrying Vladimir and Elizaveta led the way. Arthur stayed close to me. I held my skirt in one hand and my suit case in the other. The walk seemed long, but soon enough we were boarding the boat.

Immediately, I went to the false board and found my extra key still in place. I breathed a relief of air. David had my normal keys. Thank goodness these were still here. Ivan took the keys from me, saying that he'll sail.

I didn't reject, though I felt more comfortable with the idea of Arthur sailing. He did tell me he captained a ship once. However, said man was still on the dock, waving to us happily. As the men carried the dead ones below deck, I walked up to the rail and asked him what he was doing.

He frowned, saying, "I'm not coming with you."

What? No! I trust him more than anybody else here. "Why?" I demanded, trying not to sound distressed.

"I have to clean up this mess," he said simply. "I don't want the police looking too far into this you know."

I sighed. He was right, though it still wasn't fair. I started to object when the boat surged forward. I griped the rail for support and another hand was place on my shoulder. It was Ludwig. He didn't say anything, though his glare was intimidating. Arthur happily called "Good bye" to us and we watched his figure shrink in the distance.

I waved back to him. It wasn't until he was fully gone did I stop and address the German. "What was that for?" I demanded.

Ludwig looked down at me. His whole being was cold and stoic. It was as if he was a completely different person from the asshole I knew and hated before. At first, he didn't say anything, but finally he spoke. "You do realize that we escorting you to your death," he said severely.

I looked at him blankly. Of course he'll say that. I knew the fact just as much as he does. I didn't want to die, but for so odd reason I was okay with it for now. "I know, but maybe I deserve it."

For the second time in my life, Ludwig grabbed my neck. There was no leverage for his to press me against, so he pressed my neck over the sea. I relied on the rail for support, fearing I'll go into the water. "You think you're so smart," he growled. "But you're not. You're just a simple, weak human. You will die at the drop of the pin." He looked me straight in the eye and whispered, "And I'll be glad when that happens."

He released me and I fell to the ground, gasping for air. He had reawakened the bruise on my neck from when Lovino chocked me. Actually, why the hell was everyone choking me today? Was today national 'Chock Annie Day'? Ludwig continued, saying, "But apparently when I agreed to come and help kidnap you, I agreed to support your arsch in this trial. So, you better shut-up and do everything I say, verstehen?"

I ignored the German and nodded. The glint in blue eyes was familiar to me. He acted the same way when I refused to wear his Nazi armband. According to theory, this was Nazi Germany. Not Ludwig.

Lord help me.

* * *

><p><strong>March 31, 1944<strong>

**Ipswich, East Coast of Britain**

"They killed him," was all David would say when he saw his father's dead body laying in the red stained English grass. He and his scrap of men had finally tracked down where the car his sister was in went and found the site of a massacre. Five men he knew, his father, and Walter were all dead. He would say that they all died very violently.

There was a little evidence that there were more bodies there, but they were gone. "Let's just hope Annie's not one of them," James commented after ordering his men to collect any discriminating evidence. All of them were wounded in a small way. James himself had a bleeding arm whereas his companion's arm was limp from a pipe breaking the bone.

David shook his head. "No she not," he replied. "Why would the HETAs have gone through all of this effort to take her just to kill her?" The haft blood started to march away, observing the rest of the field.

The cherry blond considered this. "You're probably right." They walked among the masses for a long minute, trying to find a single hint to where they went. They wanted as much as they can get before the Parkers and Connors arrived. Once they did . . . they preferred not to think about that.

His shoe stepped on something soft. David gave an 'hm?' as he bent down to see what it was. "What is this?" he asked, before realizing it himself. "Annie's book?" He observed the item carefully. There was a little blood on it, but besides that, it was intact._ "That means they tried to bring her memories back,_" David thought, opening the book and reading the faded words.

James looked over his shoulders, following the written words. The book was odd, written in both Italian and English. It was made to help the children understand both languages, though both of them only read it in Italian.

Turning to the middle of the book, David paused. "What's this?" he asked, lifting a white business card from the book margin. It was white and clean, almost preserved. He turned the card and saw written in clear black letters: 'Arthur Kirkland' and a phone number. Why was that in there? Did the Kid or Arthur stick it in there?

James read the number aloud. "What is that doing in there?" he asked curiously.

David sighed and stuffed the card into his pocket. "No idea, but it is very fortunate, no?"

The cherry blond agreed just as another set of cars were heard in the distance. "That'll be the Parkers," he said, groaning slightly.

The Italian nodded. "No telling anyone about the card," he ordered. "Got it?"

"Got it."

* * *

><p><strong>March 31, 1944<strong>

_**The Arsenius**_

Finally, I was alone. The sunlight was fading and the air was growing cold. It had taken the American a few hours to wake-up, but once he did I had to go through an hour long apology from Alfred. Apparently, he had hated me for the past three years, blaming me for the events. But now my 'noble actions' had proved him wrong and he was going to be on my side for the trial. _"Lucky me,_" I thought sourly before he demanded to see my missing ear.

That took another twenty minutes of arguing, but finally I gave in, ripping the white bandage off the side of my head. The American circled his finger around the hole, gazing into it curiously. He left after he proclaimed that it was cool.

I sighed a breath of relief and looked out to the ocean. The air was salty and the best in the world. Contrary to what Alfred said, I wasn't feeling all that noble. In truth, I felt like a terrible person.

I was even starting to doubt my own pervious words. None of this was Dad's fault, but my own. I started to twist my ring again. Damn, why am I always doing that? I stopped and noticed something odd about my hand.

It was the one Dad and grabbed when he died. On my palm, there was smeared blood in a familiar pattern. I peered at it closely, trying to figure out what it was. Then I saw it.

On my hand, Dad wrote out a name.

_Arsenius_.

* * *

><p><strong>MW<strong>: Just when shit was starting to make sense :D

**SEK**: *groan*

**MW**: Shut-up. Well for the past six chapters I've been dying to write this for obvious reasons (love crashing weddings!) However, this was a pain to write. I'm not 100% happy with it, but I will give it an official seal of awesome. I've never actually been to a wedding, so I had to research the stander events that took place.

Next chapter may be next week, but don't get ye hopes up. Next week IS Christmas and I do have finals and more gifts to write. So now I'm just going to wish you all Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukah and other holidays!

**Fun facts and Translations**

"Óvatos" Can either be translated as 'caution' or 'be careful'. Hungarian.

"Then how about this . . . We grow, live, and die like them." I challenge thee to go by memory and list who says what for that little flashback.

"Stronzo" Asshole. Italian.

"Cagna" Bitch. Italian.

"Sweating like a sinner in church" Kudos to those who get the reference.

"Arsch" Ass. German.

"Verstehen?" Understand? German.

**Next Chapter**: Annie's trail. Should be fun.

**MW**: And one last note, I will now say a random line that you may/not understand *clears throat* "FIVE GERMAN FACE PALMS!"

*****WELL, I GUESS AFTER ALL THAT YOU HAVE TO REVIEW AND MAKE ME HAPPY FOR THE HOLIDAYS*****


	15. A Sequence of Cliché Occurrences

**MW:** Well what up peeps? Now, there are a few things I want to talk about in this first AN, so just bear with me.

Yes, **SEK**, once again, did not proofread this. She is currently out of town on a secret mission . . . Yeah . . . Something like that . . .

So, once again, I proofread it. I looked it over three times over the course of a few days, so I think I did a fair job; though feel free to tell me where I screwed up.

Yes, I know I broke the fourth wall a couple of times in this chapter. Deal with it.

Longest chapter yet bitches clocking at over 13,700 words.

So how was your holiday? Mine was fine, I got a billion movies, so I did a lot of multitasking (aka: I was watching Anastasia while typing up the last quarter of this). Sadly, I didn't receive any fan art, but there is still New Years *wink*wink*nudge*cough*cough*

But here is the really important story I wanted to tell.

It was Christmas Eve and my cooking endeavors weren't going so well. Thus, in order to calm down, I decided to stalk some of my new watchers. I saw that one had favorite this other OC story called 'Tell Me that this is a Dream" and I figured 'heck, why not check out what other people are doing?' So I'm doing this and at the end of the chapter, they just randomly mention this story.

Let's just say, I felt very honored.

Then my new friend, **MoonSparrow**, just started her OC story "Our Little Pangea" and also credited me and the HetaOni girl for being an inspiration. Why don't we all be good sports and give her a little encouragement.

Overall, even though I didn't get any of that fan art I wanted, I got two Christmas gifts that I never knew I wanted. It just feels awesome to have my little story leak into other people's minds at random.

So people, review and inflate my ego a little more.

**Chapter Summary**: What was supposed to be a semi peaceful argument turns into a deadly dual.

**Warnings:** Blood, Language, Violence, Dark!Countries, Yaoi, and some other crap I can't really remember right now.

**Disclaimer:** I own Annie, not Hetalia.

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 15~<strong>

**A Sequence of Cliché Occurrences**

* * *

><p><strong>April 1, 1944<strong>

** Somewhere off the coast of Britain**

"What the ficken Annie!" Ludwig snapped in anger. I rolled my eyes as I shifted on my spot in the hammock next to Lovino. I sat, annoyed, as I listened to the German list off the latest failures of my life. Beneath deck was Alfred, Elizaveta, Gilbert, Lovino, Vladimir, and Ludwig were trying to come up with a good enough case for my defense.

So far, it was not going well. Apparently, haft of the stuff I've done in my life did not give me enough leverage to save my sorry ass. The blond was now changing the topic to how I was definitely going to die now. I was still wondering why he was even helping me. He did just threaten me yesterday. And choke me, we can't forget about that. How could I? I had a huge bruise on my neck from being choked twice.

Ugh, I hate these people sometimes.

I sighed and laid on the hammock completely, causing Lovino to scowl at my disturbance of the bed. Then again, I was not in the best condition either. Apparently, none of the countries thought to bring food. So far, only Lovino, Alfred, and I were complaining.

AKA: All of us with either a need or want to eat.

My wedding dress was stiff from dry blood. Yeah, I was also stuck in that. No one thought to bring me a change of clothes either.

Don't mind me; I'm just irritated with the German before me. "Well at the moment, calling my Dad was the sanest thing to do," I defended. Yes, we were going over all of the events from chapter 4- I mean -before I discovered their little secret. "But I thought you knew I called him." Yeah, cause I didn't just break the forth wall there.

"I did," Ludwig laughed. "But I didn't know he was a total psycho?"

"Watch your tongue," Elizaveta scolded sharply. I sighed. Now we repeat a cycle. He'll ask why he should and she'll say something for my defense. Meanwhile, the rest of us would tell them to forget it completely.

"It's fine-" I stared only to be cut off.

"I'm only speaking the truth," the blond huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

She placed her hands on her hips. "Truth or not does not make it polite," she replied hotly. "Would you like it if I constantly insulted your parent?" For a second longer, she glared at the German till a thought occurred to her. "I'm sorry!" Elizaveta was facing me, looking completely embarrassed. "I shouldn't have said that! Bocsánat! Bocsánat! Bocsánat!"

Again, I sighed. "It's fine-" I started to say before being cut off.

"Fuck it, Hungary," Lovino snapped harshly. "The bitch doesn't give a damn." I couldn't tell whether or not it was an insult or an attempt to help me.

Alfred stepped away from the wall and placed a hand on my forehead. He looked at me in a curious way, as if checking for something. "You're heating up," he noted, sounding rather calm for once. "Maybe we should take a break."

Ludwig swatted Alfred away. His nose crinkled as he snarled, "If we do that then we'll never get anything from her."

Vladimir copied my annoyed sigh. "I agree with America in this matter," he stated, eyes closed in concentration. "I can feel her blood pressure rising."

"I'm fine-"

The Hungarian became fretful. "You should lie down for a few minutes," she urged, pressing me into the hammock. "Or maybe you need fresh air."

"No, I'm okay-"

"We need to continue." Ludwig pushed her away again. He glared at me again before demanding, "What happened next?"

Finally! Someone who was listening to me. However, when I started to speak, Alfred's voice covered mine, "Dude, chill. We have all the time in the world. Let her rest, would ya?"

"It's not necessary. We need to continue."

"We should take a little break."

"Fuck you damn potato bastard. No one likes your damn plan."

"She's going to get sick this way."

"Shut-up!" That was me. The anger boiled over inside of me. I jumped to my feet, demanding everyone's attention. I took a deep breath before ranting, "Would you all just be quiet and listen for once? I admit, I made some mistakes in the past, but have you thought that I realized how pathetic I had been acting? Hm? Or had you all just been wrapped up in your own little worlds to realize this yourself?" I paused. "I'm fine. I'm not going to get sick from telling life stories! Just leave me be."

It was silent for a moment. Elizaveta and Alfred seemed mildly shock, whereas the other three were nonchalant. Everyone waited for the other to react. Ludwig glared down at me. He took a few steps forwards and I took a few steps back. Something told me to be wary of him. And I was right. The next thing he did was slap me across the face.

"Didn't I tell you not to be a smart ass?" He snapped as I rubbed my check.

The other girl opened her mouth to make an objection, but she was beaten to it. "No you didn't," I said in the exact manner he forbidden. I also made sure to glare at him with the same amount of hate.

He clenched his fist. The German was prepared to hit me again. "Don't you even think about it Germany," Alfred warned, almost preparing himself for a fight. I never did find out whether he took the advice or not since a distinct pounding noise was heard was a certain giant climbed down the stairs.

Out of all of us, Ivan was the only one capable of keeping his cool. Or it could be that we were all afraid of arguing around him. Either way, all conflicts stopped when he entered a room. The tall Russian had to duck in order to go through the door and had to crouch to avoid the ceiling. Poor guy.

"What's going on here comrades?" he asked. "I can hear you yelling from the control room." We were all silent, stealing shaky glances to one another. Our looks dared each other to explain to him the argument. When none of us answered, Ivan gained the sternest look I've ever seen. "Annie, can you go on deck for a few minutes?" He ordered.

I tried not to let my panic showed. This man was going to kill me! I pushed pass the other nations and quickly climbed up the stairs.

* * *

><p>Russia waited until I was out of hearing range to address his fellow nations. He glared at the group for a long minute before saying, "So Germany-" Said man jumped at his name. "What did she do now?"<p>

Germany scowled. "She was being difficult."

Hungary sighed. "No she wasn't. Germany wanted to press Annie for more details and America and I wanted for her to rest."

"And then she fucking snapped at us." The Italian nation jumped back onto the hammock and laid down. "And for no damn reason either."

The violet eyed man scanned the room, waiting for more insight. None came. He said, "I know that you are stressed, but I must point out something to you all."

"Like what?" Germany huffed, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He barely had time to duck as Ivan threw his pipe at the other's head. He still didn't like the Axis country, especially when he betrayed their treaty all those years ago.

Russia pushed his way into the room and picked the pipe off the ground. "She's human, da?" he stated simply. "And how many people just die around her?"

"She only gave a damn about two of them," Romano pointed out.

The Russian gave his creepy smile. Finally, someone was actually catching on. "Who?"

With an eye roll, "The bastard Dad and the bastard boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Germany looked rather confuse. "Don't you mean fiancé?"  
>Romano scowled. "Whatever the fuck you want potato bastard," he growled, tired of the German's presence. "Either way she was marrying the asshole."<br>It was silent as Germany thought this over. He muttered something about how he thought Annie didn't even like Walter, but it was lost to everyone else. Having retrieved his pipe, Russia was making his way back to the door. "And as a human, she's naturally sad about this," Russia concluded. "So of course she's angry and sick-like. She's in mourning, da?"  
>"We don't have time for her to be in mourning," the German replied hotly. "We need as much as we can or else this whole endeavor would be just a waste of time."<br>"But having we all experience mourning?" The question was odd, coming from Russia's lips.

"Only the weak mourn."

"Then am I weak?" He was hushed. Ivan, mourning over someone? How was that possible? He was the (debatable) the strongest of all of them. No one dared to say anything about it.

Seeing that they were all speechless, the nation turned to leave. He had one foot on the stairs when he decided to add one last thought. "Even today I still miss my little Anya." He flashed them one last childish smile. "Da?"

The nations were silent as they watched Russia leave. "Anya?" Hungary repeated, still in shock. "Who is Anya?"

Romania thought it over. "I think he meant the Grand Duchess Anastasia," he realized. They all knew who she was. Anastasia and the rest of the Romanov family were murdered during the revolution. Then there was all that fiasco of her possibly still being alive.

"Does it really matter?" Germany demanded. "That just means that he's weak."

"Bullshit!" Shifty eyes traveled to Prussia. He was leaning against the wall in his own sulk. He was so silent; everyone had forgotten that he was there. He crossed his arms over his chest and kept his head low. Through his platinum blond fringe, Germany could see his brother glaring at him. "We both know that it's not true."

The other replied, "And how's that?"

"Because I still miss Old Fritz." It was said in almost a low hiss. Prussia got off the wall and marched straight up to his brother, challenging him. "Does that make the awesome me weak?"

"Ja." Dark red eyes went wide at the lack of hesitation. Ice blue ones were cold with hatred. They stared at each other, almost daring the other to change their minds. For the longest moment, it was silent.

"I miss George." America said as he smiled softly and cleaned his wired rim glassed. "He was a cool guy," he said wistfully. "Always gave me the best advice. Made sure I was on steady ground." He chuckled. "He knew more about being a nation than I did."

Romano groaned. "Nonno Roma was a fucking idiot," he snarled. "When he disappeared, all Veneziano would do was cry." He punched the wall in anger. "Damnit. I wish he'll come back so that the damn idiot would stop bitching."

Hungary smiled. She knew that the southern haft of Italy truly loved his grandfather; he was just too shy to admit it himself. By now, the nation figured that it would be alright for her to contribute to the peer therapy secession they were having. "I miss Holy Rome," she stated, remembering how cute the little empire had been.

"Shut-up," Germany snapped, a new form of hate in his eyes. He glared at his female ally. "Don't you ever mention that Schwein."

Prussia and Hungary frowned. The Germanic nation always had a grudge against the empire, though the girl was never able to figure out why. Holy Rome died right before Germany was born; there was no way for the two to have ever met. She figured that Prussia might possibly know, but every time she brought it up the ex-nation would snap at her to 'get over the past'.

"_What happened?_" she wondered. The two men use to be so close to each other. Prussia was an overbearing older brother, always making sure Germany had what he needed to become a strong nation. Heck, he even defeated his brothers so that Germany could grow as strong as possible. Then, the First World War hit. And now they were fighting again.

Maybe it was because Prussia was no longer a nation. Or maybe it was because of the war among them. Hungary knew what Germany's policies were and they went against everything Prussia was built with. Yes, he was built for war, but his foundation stones were that of a Christian.

But whatever it was, Germany and Prussia were at odds ends with each other and for some reason, Holy Roman Empire had something to do with it.

* * *

><p>When Ivan came onto deck, I held my breath. I was terrified that he was going to slung me with his pipe. I had all the right reasons to believe so (he did nearly kill me all those years ago). I twisted the ring on my finger as he approached me. Damn, why was I still doing that?<p>

There was a smug look draw on his face. What did he do? "Did you kill them?" I asked curiously, taking a step back from him.

The Russian chuckled, because somehow in his twisted mind that was funny. "No I didn't," he said, taking a spot at the rails. Which reminded me, who was sailing my baby? "What makes you think that?"

I took the empty spot next to him, making sure to keep a safe distance away. That is, if any distance was safe from Ivan. "It took you awhile to follow me," I stated, looking out to the ocean. It was cool outside and the water was a little choppy. "Where are we going?" I asked. I knew that the trial was in Switzerland, but you couldn't take a boat to the land surround nation.

"To a Maunsell Sea Fort off the coast of Suffolk, England," he stated. That couldn't be right. If it was, then we would have already landed there by now. He sensed my confusion and explained, "I had to take an alternate route in order to avoid anyone possible followers. When we reach the fort, we'll dock and take a larger boat to a British air carrier and take a plane to Switzerland."

With a whistle, "That's rather complex."

"Da."

We were silent for a few minutes, appreciating the cool ocean air around us. "We wouldn't succeed," I said suddenly. Ivan gave an 'hm' in question. I leaned further into the rail. "This whole defense strategy- it wouldn't work. I'm going to die soon."

The Russian raised an eyebrow. "You seem rather prepared for it."

I shrugged. "In a way, I am." I hesitated for a moment. "But in another, I want to live. I'm only in my twenties; I have a long time left, but I've caused so much trouble around me that I just deserve to die anyways."

He considered my words, shifting them in his hands as he decided on a decent plan. "There may be a way for you to cheat death again." It was my turn for the questioning 'hm'. "When you receive your guilty verdict, whoever the nations voted as judge would ask the world who would like the pleasure of killing you." (The usage of 'pleasure' mildly disturbed me.) "And I will volunteer."

"Okay. . ." I was confused. How would the Russian nation killing me save my life?

Ivan gave his childish smirk. "But there could be a problem with that."

It was smart just to pretend to follow what he was saying. "What is?"

"Turkey. You remember him, da?"

How could I ever forget? "Yeah."

"Well he might also volunteer. In that case, it is tradition for the convicted human to choose who kills them." My eyes went wide and a gasp escaped my mouth. That was horrible, making someone choose their own killer. What in the world were they thinking when they came up with that one? "In that case, choose me, da? Do you understand?"

"No," I practically yelled. "That's terrible! How could I choose my own killer, nonetheless you?"

Ivan seemed incredibly puzzled. "You just do," he stated simply. "How can that be hard?"

I groaned, "Never mind." I was going to leave it at that, but his violet eyes were glaring me down in his evil way. Holy shit, that's creepy. "O-okay, okay!" I snapped. "I will choose you."

He smiled in satisfaction. "Thank you."

He started to walk away. "Why are you helping me?" I demanded.

"I have my reasons." The confidence in his voice was scary.

* * *

><p><strong>April 3, 1944<strong>

**World Conference Room, Switzerland**

In total, it took three days to reach the trial. When we docked at the sea fort, a young private named Peter sailed us over to the air craft carrier. He lent me a British military uniform and gave us all delicious British food. The plane flight was long and edgy. Not only did I have to finish my interrogation, but Ludwig mentioned that Vash might try to shoot us down. Why did Switzerland have to have its neutrality?

Luckily, we gained clearance in time. After that it was a train ride across the country. I fell asleep there and when I woke, we were giving the car away to a chauffeur.

We had finally arrived.

"You nervous?" Alfred asked with a grin.

I stood, gazing up at the large building before us. Seriously, it was freakishly large. You could play American football inside. There were armed guards at the door and the windows were covered by closed curtains. Everything about the place had my senses on full alert. I gulped, "Yes."

The blond laughed and smacked his hand against my back. I fell face first on the ground. "Oh, sorry dude," he laughed. "That was supposed to confront ya."

"Nice job," I said dryly, rising back onto my feet.

He placed his hands on his hips and laughed. "Don't worry! I'm going to be the best representative for ya!" I gave him a look. Crazy-glasses-wearing-American says what? He sensed my confusion. "I'll be your lawyer!"

By now, Ludwig and Ivan were showing their IDs to the guards. I sped walked to the nearest sane person. "I'm doom," I muttered.

Lovino scoffed, "Fucking yay." Okay, not as sane as I thought.

Finally we were let inside. The lobby was rather plain. There were only two exits: the way which we just came and a large, closed door. A single couch was placed by the door, as if a waiting area for those in need. Besides us, the room was empty. "Give them a few minutes," Vladimir said. "It'll take awhile for them to arrive."

I stood awkwardly as everyone else regarded this with ease. "This is so unawesome," Gilbert muttered unhappily.

"Deal with it," Ludwig muttered. In was silent again.

The American nudged my shoulder. "Why are you still nervous?" He asked. "I am representing you." I gave a sigh. How was I supposed to explain my concern of him being an idiot with a hero complex? I could just imagine him slipping up multiple times without batting an eyelid. He raised his hands in defense. "Look I know what you are thinking-"

"Really?" The disbelief was there.

"-but your life is on the line and as the hero, I will save your life."

Queue the eye roll, "That makes me feel so much better."

Elizaveta heard us and intervene on the American's behalf. "You are very lucky Annie," She comforted. "Alfred would make an excellent lawyer."

I raised an eyebrow. "How?"

"Well America is the capital of democracy, so he's an expert at this." Point taken, though I still did not feel better. The closed door finally opened and in came three men. I recognized them immediately: Francis, Antonio, and the speaker: Matthias. I couldn't help but to smile.

"Are you on our team?" Alfred asked hopefully.

"Sure is!" Matthias said as the Spaniard ran to his unwilling boyfriend. "Team Human for the win~!"

Ludwig scowled. "Enough of that," he ordered. The Dane immediately took a few steps away from me, as if scared. His blue eyes were wide as he stumbled over his feet to get away. Looking closely, I noticed that he was skinnier and there were dark shadows under his eyelids.

Matthias also didn't carry himself the same way. The ax he usually used for support was nowhere to be seen. Overall, he just looked worn. The German nation ordered his men for a strategy plan, giving Alfred cause to mutter, "I can't believe I'm working with a Nazi."

Everyone but Francis and I gathered in one corner. This time, I took an opportunity to look over the French man before speaking. The blond was in a similar state of appearance to Matthias. His whole body seemed to be only composed of skin and bone. Like I remembered, his chin was studded, though the hairs were longer and thicker. "Bonjour ma cher," he cooed in his usual voice, as if nothing was wrong. "How have you been doing?"

Francis tried to place an arm around me, but I quickly pushed him away. "Oh fine I guess," I said wearily as I took a seat on the lonely couch. He was quick to follow suit. "It's been a long three years."

The blond smiled grew wider. "I heard that you were going to get married."

"H-how did you know that?" I demanded, feeling my face redden.

"Word travels fast among nations." The Frenchman sighed. "Dieu aime potins."

We sat in silence for a long time. The argument from Team Human could be heard clearly. It was something along the line of 'she'll never survive' and 'that changes nothing'. _"What are they talking about,"_ I thought irritated. Seriously, this involved my life; I should be with them talking. Groaning, I leaned into the seat. "How has the past three years treated you?" I asked.

Francis hesitated to answer. "Ma cher, it is never good to talk about such terrible things." I gave him a look, daring him not to answer my question. He quickly added, "But if you must know, being occupied by Germany is dreadful. I hate living in his basement."

"Is that why you look so bad?"

He frowned and sighed. "Oui." His handsome face showed how displease he was at admitting it. He sunk into the couch's cushions, arms folded across his chest.

I gave him a few minutes to think to himself. Team Human was now saying 'But it'll never work Ivan'. Must be that master plan the Russian told me about earlier. "Francis," my voice regained his attention. "You know a lot about love, right?"

He gave a signature 'Ohonhonhon~'. The nation scoot forward in his seat and leaned his face closer to mine. "I know everything about l'amour, Annie. So what's the problem?"

I blushed and pushed him away. Geeze, doesn't he know anything about personal space? I cleared my throat. "Well there was this guy-"

His smile grew larger. "Is he a rather serious person?"

I blinked. "Well he' more stern, I guess."

Francis patted my back. "No worry ma cher," he said brightly. "Germany is just going through a stage right now, he'll be back to loving you soon."

"What!" I nearly screamed it as I jumped to my feet. "No! Not Ludwig! That's unthinkable!"

Team Human paused and passed strange looks towards me. Especially Ludwig. "Désolé," Francis apologized, gesturing for me to sit back down. Reluctantly, I took my seat again. After a few more seconds, Team Human resumed their conversation and Francis said softer, "You two would just make a cute couple."

I stared at him. "You're crazy," I huffed. "The guy's name was Walter Alwin." I explained to him my whole situation, ending softly at where he died.

"Très triste," he said once my tale was told. "But I don't understand what your problem is." He placed an arm around my shoulders. The move was innocent enough, so I didn't push him away.

"It's just . . . I don't get it. Why did he like me?" I said as I ran a hand through my hair. "I'm just so confuse."

"No, you feel guilty. I believe that you aren't bothered by his words at all, but your own actions." He squeezed my shoulder. "With time, your exactly feelings will be clear."

I whistled. "Impressive," I said. "I didn't know you were good at giving advice."

"I didn't know you had mammaires."

"What?" I looked down and saw he had his hand over my bosom. I snarled and swatted his hand away. "What the bloody hell pervert!"

Francis laughed. "So modest," he chuckled. "But can you answer a question of my own, ma cher?"

I glared at him. "Just keep your hands off of me."

"Of all us countries, who would you rather make l'amour to?"

Needless to say, by the time Team Human was finish with their meeting; my fist was buried deep into Frenchman's face. "What the fuck?" Lovino asked, humored and annoyed.

I ignored his comment and jumped off the couch and left pervert by himself. "So what's the plan?" I asked.

The countries exchanged worried glances between each other. "I think we have a good strategy," Alfred said simply. "Since the old man forgot to mention that you helped Italy, we have a surprise case closer."

Antonio ruffled my hair. "No worry Annie~" He chirped happily. "Soon enough you'll be a free woman." Even with their fake reassurances, I didn't feel any better. I still believed that I would die here.

And I was right.

Almost immediately afterwards, Vladimir informed that it was time to go in. The large doors opened and we entered silently. Or as silent as Alfred declaring that 'the heroes have returned' can get. The room before me was large and spacious. A long rectangular table was at the center, stretching a mile long from one side to another, each possible free space filled with a country.

Every eye glared at me, boring into my soul. I shivered and felt my nonexistent hopes drop further. "I hope we can get started right away," Ludwig said, glaring down the table. There was a tone in his voice, daring the first he addressed to deny him.

That person just happened to had been Vash. "Yes we can," he said testily. To me, the neutral country sounded tired, though it was nice to see him still armed with his usual gun. "While Russia and the rest of your party took longer than necessary to collect Miss Henson," he continued. "We voted for our judge."

"And who is that?" Elizaveta asked. She was looking at Gilbert, who was taking a spot in the corner of the room, brooding.

"Me." Taking Vash's place at the table's head was Yao. He didn't look any older, yet there was a regal feel to him. In a way, I would understand why they voted for him. He is China, so he must be much older than all of them. I sensed Ivan tense, but he said nothing. I was too afraid to look away and see what was wrong. Yao was so . . . intimidating.

The nation took a seat and looked upon us cruelly. "And shortly after Hungary and Romania were sent to check on your progress, the world voted on the type of trial that shall take place here- aru." The judge said.

"Type of trial?" Alfred's face whiten. "Since when was there a 'type of trial'?"

The Asian was not pleased. "Since I decided that as my duty as judge, I had to refresh on the rules we set for ourselves centuries ago- aru." He stood, as if to make his slight figure more solid. "As it happens, I came upon the written rules written by the Great Roman Empire himself."

"Bullshit," Lovino snapped. "Nano's rules were pointless and involves only the empires."

Vladimir nodded. "And If I remember correctly, that means that the only person that would remotely apply to would be Britain, but he's not here."

I'm just going to say this now: I have no idea what the hell they are saying. It's entering one ear and exiting the other.

"Or ex-empires." Sadiq was standing. He was wearing his white mask again. "The rules clearly states that they imply to all empires and any empires dissolute for fifty years after. And I, the great Ottoman Empire, have only been dissolute for twenty." Huh?

Ludwig frowned. "Verdammt," he muttered, seeing the point I clearly missed. He took a deep breath. After a moment, "So what did the Great Roman Empire's rules say?"

"Trials may be taken through means of democracy or anarchy," Yao said. "So that means that we could have a debate or duel- aru." He paused. "And the world has voted that the crimes accused against Annabel Henson must be sorted through a duel- aru."

Dead air. I was stiff with dread. If I heard right, I was going to have to battle a country. Yup, I'm so going to die here. Well readers, it was nice knowing you, I hope you enjoyed my company.

Loudly, Lovino stomped his foot. "Where the fuck does it say that in Nano's rules?" he yelled. "Veneziano and I memorized it! Nowhere in that damn book does it fucking say that shit!" Alas, there was hope.

"Yes it does." It was a soft voice. Feli was hugging a blond female for comfort. He looked better than last time, though his eyes were wide and staring at his former German ally. "We were children fratello," he explained. "Nano never read to us the violent parts." Aw, poor little guy! He needs a hug.

That shut the Italian up. "If I may-" Ivan took a step forward. "-I would like to volunteer to take part in this duel against Annie, da?" I have never heard him so polite before.

"No." I winced. Ouch. Ivan looked a little hurt.

At last, my time of silence has come to an end."Wait a second," I said loudly. "Are you still holding a grudge against me for confusing your gender?" Haft of the countries burst into laughter. Yao was not pleased.

"See! I wasn't the only one to do it!" The blond next to Feli exclaimed.

The Asian sighed and muttered something about being immature. After a minute, he explained, "An opponent has already been chosen- aru."

"Who?" I asked. A few people gave me strange looks. Yeah, I sounded a little confident, but I swear, I was terrified. _"Please don't say Sadiq,"_ I prayed fiercely. "_Anybody but him!"_

God heard my prayers and Yao didn't tell me it was the Turk. No, I got someone much worst. "I will be your opponent," Kiku said, rising from his seat. Holy crap! This definitely wasn't the Kiku I knew and loved. He wore a dark version of his white suit and had an overall darkness to him. This was . . .

Alfred placed a protective arm around me. "Five minutes for a prep talk?" He asked, sounding very serious. Very impressive, if I may say.

Yao was also impressed. "Take ten- aru," he ordered.

Gilbert, Elizaveta, Matthias, Ivan, and Ludwig followed Alfred and I out of the room and back into the lobby. Once the door closed, Matthias exploded. "What the hell!" He cursed before going onto his knees and begged for forgiveness from Ludwig. "I'm so sorry Germany. I knew of the duel, but I didn't know that Japan would be fighting. I swear on my title of King of Northern Europe."

Ludwig glared down at him. "You better be," he snarled before kicking him in the face. Hard. I winced as the Danish man's nose broke and blood began to spill. According to world affairs, Germans occupied Denmark, so I guess the scene before me made sense. I guessed I could also say he lived in Ludwig's basement.

Elizaveta glared at them both. "Hush up," she ordered before scolding in Hungarian to them again. While she talked, Gilbert, Ivan, and Alfred dragged me to the corner farthest from them.

"This is unawesome," Gilbert muttered. "Very unawesome." He punched the wall. "We worked this hard to get you out alive just to have Japan screw it up for us?"

"What's wrong with them?" I asked. Ivan and Alfred looked at me oddly. "What is wrong with Ludwig and Kiku? They're different from what I remember."

They shifted gazes between each other before Ivan explained, "On December 13, 1937, during the Second Sin-Japanesse War; Japan's forces took part in the Nanking Massacre. His troops invaded China's capital and during a course of six weeks, hundreds of thousands of Chinese civilians and disarmed soldiers were murdered and 20,000 to 80,000 women were raped by soldiers of the Imperial Japanese Army. Children and infants were not exempted from any of these actions."

"Every since, Japan has been slowly turning into a darker image of his former self."

"Fedual Era Japan?" I asked.

"Da. When the war in the pacific took a full swing, he lost himself completely." Ivan smiled to himself. "Even after all that, China still loved Japan, even if their relationship was strained. He's so amiable-"

Alfred clapped his hands together. "Moving on," he declared, interrupting the Russian's fantasy. "Germany is kinda stuck in Nazi phase I guess. I don't know exactly when it started, but one day we were fighting him and he was just . . . eviler."

I nodded. "That makes sense," I said, though deep inside I felt terrible. How could all of this gone on without me knowing? And Kiku . . . he was a dear friend, but now my enemy. I couldn't help but to feel afraid.

I lowered my head. I was on the verge of tears. No, I wasn't about to be defeated by him either. I survived Ludwig, David, Dad, and Rodger. Surly I can go up against my friend. I trembled and sniffled for a second, before looking back up. "How do I defeat him?" I demanded, sounding more confident than I felt.

"So you decided you want to live?" Ivan asked, humored.

With a smile, "Da."

Both countries joined me in the smiling. "You need weapons," Ivan said. "Be right back." He went back into the conference room in a swift manner.

Alfred stared for a moment before saying, "Japan's strong, but his dark self is more pugnacious-" whoa, big words there! "-I bet that if you dodge him long enough he'll lose his patience and make a mistake."

"What weapons does he have?" I asked.

"A katana and freaking cool ninja stars." He smiled brightly, but it was obvious that something was wrong and I think I might know what.

I placed a hand in his. "Do you still love him?" I asked.

Alfred's blue eyes softened dramatically. He broke eye contact, deciding that the floor was more interesting than my face. "No," he denied, shaking his head incessantly. It was plain that he was lying. "It'll be stupid to-"

I punched his shoulder playfully. "And aren't we all idiots?"

The American stared at me for a moment before returning to his smiling mask. "Yeah, I guess we are."

"Aw, yuck." Gilbert made a barfing motion. "Did you unawesome people forget I was here or something?" Alfred and I smirked before chorusing a yes. "Fuck you too."

"Back~" Ivan sang happily, carrying a large pile of weapons in his hands. He dropped it at our feet and smiled childishly. Alfred squealed and started to sort through the pile like a child in a candy store.

I was impressed. "Where did you get so many?" I exclaimed as I fell to my knees. My hand brushed over a black machine gun.

The Russian shrugged, "I just asked the world what weapons they had to volunteer and they offered up these."

The pile consisted of swords, guns, knives, a spear, and an ax. My smile turned into a frown. "I can't carry haft this stuff," I said as I placed a hand around the ax's handle. As much as I tried, I couldn't pick it up.

Alfred cursed. "Damn, you're right." He picked up a gun and turned it over in his hands. "And Japan is extremely agile. All of these guns are just going to weigh you down."

"Have you ever fought him before?" Gilbert asked. I took a second to think it over. Before I knew they were countries, I had helped Kiku practice in a faux duel. Even though we used sticks, I was still able to get a clear understanding of how he fought.

With a nod, "Once. With sticks. I lost."

The three of them groaned. "How much time do we have left?" The American asked.

"Five minutes."

Gilbert sorted through the pile. "Here's a light weight sword," he said, testing it in his hand easily. He handed it to me. It was still a little heavy for me, but it worked. "Stand up and hold the sword like this. Now bend your knees slightly."

The last minutes were spent with Gilbert teaching me a crash course in sword fighting while Ivan and Alfred chose two pistols and strapped the holsters to my army pants. When time was up, Elizaveta was still scolding Ludwig and Matthias. I sighed and reentered the conference room.

The large table was pushed against the wall and the nations were gathered around the walls. As we entered, Yao was reading out the names of countries allowed to view the fight. Those not called grudgingly left, muttering about how the room would be too crowded with them all in there. The curtains were drawn back and windows were opened completely, letting in fresh air from the Alps into the room.

Kiku held in hand his katana. I paused and stared. He stared back with no emotions drawn as his face, though the Asian's dark eyes glared at me with no pity. Alfred stared to say something to Yao, something like a compromise. Someone tugged on my sleeve.

I broke eye contact and turned to see Antonio and Lili. The girl looked well enough as she smiled softly at me. "Hi Lili," I greeted. "How are you doing?"

She ignored my statement and held out a blue ribbon to me. "To tie your hair back," she offered. "It'll get in the way when you fight."

I looked down at the ribbon. It was silk and expensive looking, though not the same one that was in her hair. I accepted it, feeling slightly honored. "Thank you."

Antonio smiled brightly. "Are you going to use my ax?" he asked.

So that one was his. Figures. "I can't even pick that thing up."

"Tristeza," he moaned, looking disdained. His sadness disappeared when he realized something. "Wait a minute!" The handsome man shuffled through his pockets for a long minute until he pulled out a black switch blade. "I believe this is yours."

I laughed and held the weapon in my hands. "I left this at Tino's house," I said, amazed to see my Christmas gift again. "How did you get this?"

Antonio sparkled. "I found it in the snow."

"Oi, Annie." That was Alfred, realizing that I fell behind. He nudged me forward, saying, "It's time to fight."

I sighed. "Alright." I quickly addressed the two gift givers. "Thank you," I said again.

"Buena suerte!" Antonio called out before returning to his cursing Italians. I stuck the switch blade into my pocket and tied my hair away from my face, revealing my bandaged ear for the world to see. Literally.

By the time the banished countries left, there were only twenty or so spectators left. I recognized many of the faces: Vladimir, Alfred, Ivan, Toris, Felisk, Tino, Norway, Feli; the list went on. I noticed Rodderich standing by Elizaveta. The two weren't in their usual lovey-dovey atmosphere. She as scowling, as though she just lost a bad argument. He had his arms crossed impatiently over his chest as he glared down at me. I smiled at him, but his frown just deepened. I guess he wasn't on my side. That hurt, a lot.

Slowly, I dragged my legs to the fighting area. Yao stood at what I guessed was the center of the room, waiting ardently for me to arrive. When I did, he voiced loud and clear: "We are gathered here today for the nonpolitical trial of Annabel Milano Henson verses the world- aru. The conflict shall be resolved by a battle to the death between the defense and world representative Japan, human name 'Kiku Honda'."

He looked back and forth between us. "The fight will last as long as needed- aru. No countries shall physically interfere with it. If so, then the trial would be tried again on a later date- aru. If the prosecuting side wins the fight, then the defense will be proven guilty. However, if the defense wins, then all charges shall be dropped. If this understood- aru?"

Kiku drew his katana and moved into an offensive stance. "Hai," He sounded confident.

I drew my own sword and moved into the defensive stance Gilbert showed me. "Andiamo," I said, clearly unsure with myself.

Yao walked to the sidelines of the room with the other spectators. The air was still until his voice ranged out clearly, "Begin- aru."

I took a deep breath and prepared myself for his attack. Kiku didn't move; just continue to glare at me. _"He's not going to hesitate,_" I thought strongly. _"This isn't the Kiku I know." _He didn't move and neither did I. At that moment, we were in a contest of patience. Who could out wait the other?

"Bend your knees more!" Gilbert called out. "You aren't going to be able to place any awesome blows if you don't bend your knees!" As helpful as he was trying to be, all his advice did was irritate me. I opened my mouth, ready to snap for him to be quiet, when I realized something.

Kiku was gone.

He was no longer in front of me. I cursed. The Asian moved positions when I was distracted! I frantically glanced about, trying to spot him. Alfred yelled, "To your left!" I quickly moved away just as the katana's blade was thrust at me. It nicked my arm; a gash at the upper shoulder.

I spun around and saw the dark silhouette of my friend smile cruelly at me. "You better pay better attention," he warned before disappearing in thin air. Remember how I used to have an image of him training on a tall mountain somewhere, learning the ways of the ninja from some monk? Yes, for the second time that image was planted in my head.

Holding my sword tighter, I circled slowly, trying to find Kiku again. I needed a way to foil his strategy and quick. I spot a few more recognizable faces, like Sadiq, smirk at my ignorance. I heard a shuffle behind me and ducked just as the katana sliced at where my neck used to be.

That was the solution. I was relying on my eyes so much that I forgot to listen for him. I concentrated more on listening for him. The beat of my heart and my panting breath was more prominent than he was. "Un passo indietro!" Lovino called out.

I followed his advice and took a large step back. My reflection showed clearly on Kiku's blade. He was attacking from the left side- again. I saw my own surprised face before he brought the blade back and disappeared again.

"_My left side_," I wondered. "_Why my. . ." _I suddenly wanted to smack myself. Of course! My left ear was missing. Kiku can clearly see the bandage covering the hole on my head and guessed that I could barely hear in that ear. My sweaty hand reached up and painfully ripped the bandage off.

My hearing improved, but just barely. This time, I could hear him lingering to my left and was able to dodge him without anyone's assistance. It was a little better; I just needed to try to hit him myself.

I stabbed the sword into the ground and drew both of my pistols. I listened for Kiku and fired when I believed I heard him. After three tries, I noticed a blood trail appearing on the floor. Even though he didn't cry out with pain, I knew I got him.

The blood trail circled me and I followed it with my eyes. When it paused, I raised my guns and fired just as Kiku revealed himself again. A bullet dug into his arm. He winced and stopped his attack.

"That was smart," he commented dryly. Oh my God, he was showing some emotions! Quickly! Someone take a picture! "Though-" he slashed and I felt hot pain seer my hands. I yelped and stumbled back, letting my guns drop. Kiku quickly kicked them out of my reach. "How well can you do without those?"

I gritted my teeth. "Japan you bastard!" Alfred and Lovino chorused in sync. Nice to know they care.

"Grab the awesome sword!" Gilbert called out. I followed his advice and back up a few more steps, searching behind me with my hand. When I found the handle, I pulled it from the ground and returned to the offensive position.

Holding our swords in front of each other, we waited for the other to attack. It was like that for minutes. The stillness was unsettling, causing many to shuffle uncomfortably on their feet. "Wait a minute . . ." That was Alfred, his obnoxious voice breaking through the air. He stomped his feet and fist pumped the air, yelling, "Japan! I know why you're not attacking! It's because you still love me!"

Kiku's face turned ugly with hatred as he snarled. Quick on his feet, he dashed up to me, sword ready to stab me. I braced myself. Our swords met and he jumped back, just to slash again. He pushed me forward, slashing closer and closer to my face. I stumbled back, trying to insert an attack of my own.

My back met the wall. I glanced back and saw that I was right by one of the windows. With nowhere to go, I held my ground. This was definitely going to get ugly. Kiku raised his sword and slashed downward at my face. I raised my own and used my free hand to support my blade.

Kiku bore his weight onto me. My legs collapsed and I fell to my knees. I winced as my arms burned from stress. He looked down at me, smiling at his soon to be victory. There was a look on his face, as if to say "Idiot". Wait a second; we did something similar to this the last time we fought.

I released my sword and rolled away from his. My sword flew out of my hands and out the window. Kiku's embedded itself into the ground where I used to be. He scowled. I smirked, saying, "That's a trick you taught me. Remember?"

Lovino and Alfred clapped and Gilbert was laughing his 'Kesses'. Ivan looked at his companions in a tired way, as if to say 'it's not over yet'. Antonio cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted excitedly. Their joy was short lived.

My opponent sighed and walked back to the center of the room, leaving his sword in the ground. Kiku pulled at his black jacket, straightening it out. He pulled off his gloves and threw them to the ground. "Come now Annie," he beckoned. "I believe you taught me that you enjoyed fist fighting more."

I struggled to my feet. My body was already starting to ache. Still, I couldn't stop fighting. I retied the ribbon in my hair and joined him. "Whatever you want Kiku."

Once again, we returned to our fighting stances. I was a little calmer, being in my element of fighting. I always had a little theory about fighting.

It originated from when I first started out street fighting. Being a girl, naturally all of the boys were bigger and tougher. Of course, I got my ass kicked for the first few months. Then I started to win. I occurred to me that I was learning as I went; once someone defeated me, next I'll defeat them. I didn't believe that you could be trained to brawl, it either happened over time or by natural.

With that in mind, throwing fists at Kiku shouldn't have scared me. But it did.

Martial arts originated in Asia. He probably knew ten different ways to kill me with chopsticks. He was skilled far more than a simple street fighter like me. My theory didn't apply to him at all. There was the small hope that his bullet womb would weigh him down, but I highly doubted it would make a difference. I had my own injury to worry about.

Again, Alfred called out, "Kiku! If it helps to know, I still love you too!" The Asian nation threw the first fist. I cursed- better stop theorizing -and dodged it, just to back away from a side kick. He was fast, really fast. "You don't have to pretend around me!"

"Shut-up Alfred!" I yelled, dodging another hit. "You're just making it-" Kiku kicked me in the stomach. The wind sharply left my body and I fell onto my butt. Quickly, I swept my foot under his legs. He jumped over it. Using my left over momentum, I rose back to my feet.

Kiku threw another and I caught it. I stumbled before I pulled him forward and used my extra hand to hold his head. I kneed his face. Another heated pain overcame my right leg and I screamed.

I released him and looked down. In my moment of distraction, Kiku had pulled out a ninja star and stabbed my upper thigh. I cursed and ignored the pain as I pulled it out, giving him enough time to stand back onto his feet. My knee to the face seemed to have given him no apparent damage.

He punched my stomach and I fell into myself. My breath knocked out of me, Kiku flipped me over his shoulder and slammed me into the ground. I screamed again. The audience was silent as they watched on. My supporter's faces fell. Sadiq chuckled lightly.

Kiku dug his knee into my stomach. His full body weight went into punching my face. I felt my nose break. The blood invaded my mouth and I tasted its bitter metallic taste. Suddenly, he stopped. He got off of me and for a moment I felt relieved.

But only for a moment.

My opponent removed the ribbon in my hair and entangled his hands in it. He lifted me to my knees. Kiku's face got close to mine as he said, "It's a pity. I didn't think you'll last this long, Annie." I snarled and spat a mixture of blood and spit at his face. Frowning, he wiped it away. "Let's end this."

He dragged me across the floor by my hair. Kiku was returning to his katana. My heart beat quickened. Yeah, I was going to die unless I did something right there and then. But my whole being felt weak; my Iron Cross weighed heavy on my chest. I kicked the air, squirming to escape his grip. My hands clawed at his.

What I needed was less hair for him to grab, then I could escape. _"If only I still had short hair,_" I thought angrily. The solution stared me in the face. "_God, why am I so stupid?_" I removed one of my hands and reached into my pocket.

Kiku finally reached his weapon. He placed his hand on the katana's hilt, saying, "Is there any last words you would like to say?"

My hand wrapped around my switchblade. I smirked. "Yeah, just one." I flicked the blade open and cut through my bundled hair. My brown locks were cut to a boy's length. Once the knife was through, I changed direction and shoved it into his stomach. I scrambled away just as he clasped a hand over the knife. "I'm not dead yet!"

Our audience was silent. Country and human were at their limits now. Both of us had an equal chance of winning. Shit just got real.

Kiku stared at the switchblade for a long moment. His face flashed between mixtures of emotions: surprise, anger, curiosity, and cool. "Impressive." He pulled it out and threw it out the open window. "But that was the last trick up your sleeve, wasn't it?" With one hand, he easily pulled his weapon from the ground. "So why don't you just surrender now?" he asked. "Make my job a little easier."

"No." I rose to my feet. My legs shake with fatigue and I felt dizzy from blood lost. I could still win this. I reached behind my neck and unclasped my Iron Cross, disguising the action by ruffling away loose hair. I smirked and spat another blood-spit mixture. As my hands returned to my side, I said, "I think you should give up now."

He chuckled. "Why is that?" he asked.

If I was right, then bringing up anything that stirred unwanted emotions will cause him to attack. Alfred proved at by causing Kiku to become agitated whenever he mentioned their past love life. "Even if I die, that changes nothing for you," I said. I did my best to remember everything about the Kiku I knew and loved. "Even if you killed me that will not change the fact that you aren't strong enough. No matter what you do now, you will never become strong enough to fight back the Western powers." My voice steadily rose to a yell. "Someday, you are going to be captured and become nothing more than what Prussia is now: a mere skeleton of what used to be."

I took a deep breath. The room was silent, save for Gilbert giving an offended huff. The audience's faces varied between being shocked and impressed. Kiku, on the other hand, glared at me darkly. He gripped the hilt so tightly, his knuckled were turning white. One more push and I was good.

"And you want to know something?" I laughed with a little insanity. "Even if you become stronger, you can never fight back your emotions. America will still love you and you will still desire-"

Kiku took the bait and charged at me, sword ready to impale me. He cried out a fierce battle cry. I tensed before stepping aside. He saw it coming and slashed. I ducked and rolled to his other side as something pasted before my eyes. I tried to ignore it, but I was able to process its basic description: a large figure with brown hair.

The blur made Kiku pause, giving me enough time to scramble to my feet and stand behind him. The blur disappeared and Kiku turned to attack me again. I quickly placed the Iron Cross's chain around his neck and pulled on it tight.

He made a chocking sound before dropping his sword. Clawing at his neck, the nation tried to break the chain, but failed. I pressed more and more. Less and less oxygen entered his lungs. I pressed more and more until the strain became too much and the chain broke. For the second time in my life, I watched as the Iron Cross fell to the floor with a deafening clank. Kiku feel to his knees, holding his neck as filled his lungs back with air.

I grabbed his sword off the ground and faced him. Carefully, I aimed it at his neck. The silence that laid over us was thick. I panted disbelief over coming me. My plan worked! I was going to live!

Looking down at Kiku, I saw that he was looking back up at me. "What are you waiting for?" he asked. "You won, kill me."

Now, if this were some American movie, this would be the climax of the battle where the hero shows that they are the better man and the audience cheers. You want to know something? I was just about to do that. In cliché dramatic speech style.

I smirked. "If this was a real fight, then you would be dead."

He looked at me as if I was insane. "What?"

"I'm not going to kill you." I was blunt and serious. "I refuse to." I threw the sword to the ground. "I am innocent," I declared, addressing the audience. "And I don't need to kill anyone to prove it either. Never in my life had I meant to hurt anyone. Not you, not Ludwig, not Feliciano, not anyone. I admit, you have all the reason to hate me. But believe me when I say, that is the last thing I feel about you."

Closing my eyes, I took a long, deep breath. I admit, I was so naive back then. Yet, it was that innocence that made them attractive to me. All my life, I lived with people who were my family, yet I hated them. These people, although living on rocks, had a sense of unity for each other.

Everything they did was for each other. I smiled softly to myself. Even when Sadiq threatened to kill Ludwig and me. He was doing what he believed to be the best for his fellow nations. They could hate each other all they want and never change the fact that they were a humongous family.

Wish as I might, I could not find a way to voice the admiration I held for them. Perhaps- if I was lucky -they would just sense it radiating from my being.

"I deserve to die," said I. "I've cause the deaths of so many: my stepmother, my father-" I choked up. "-Walter, and people whom I don't even know the names to." I kicked the sword to Kiku. "And the person you deserves to kill me is Kiku."

I knelt to the ground and lowered my head. "You saved my life all those years ago," I said. "I feel it right if you took back your mistake."

My speech was over. The audience muttered among themselves, wondering what to make of this odd display. I clenched my fist, ready for Kiku to lift the sword and slice my head off. I heard him stand and pick the sword off the ground. This really was the end for me.

"I cannot kill you."

I looked up at Kiku. He was different, softer and brighter. His face was still nonchalant, but his voice was smooth. "Why?" I asked.

He explained, "I cannot kill you because I do not regret my decision."

"Then I will." Kiku raised his sword and I defended me from my attacker. I turned over and saw Sadiq pressing his two curved swords into the katana. "You're all idiots," he yelled as the Asian pushed him back. He pointed a blade at me. "Protecting a pitiful human like that? If you jackasses wouldn't do it, then I-."

Sadiq paused before falling to the ground with a pipe in his head. "Shut-up comrade," Ivan said, pulling his weapon out. I stared, shocked. The Russian had been so quiet. I still couldn't believe that he was really on my side.

Kiku bent down to me as other nations surround me. "Are you alright, Annie-san?" he asked. "Please forgive me if I hurt you badly."

Just as I told him I forgave him, my protector was engulfed in a large bear hug. "Japan~" Alfred cried, nuzzling his neck. "You're using you're weird endings! You're back to normal~"

"What?" I asked, not really sure if I followed.

Surprisingly, Ludwig was among the crowd of people surrounding me. He didn't look happy, but he didn't look angry at all. His expression was rather neutral. "Dark Japan is gone," he explained. "And normal Japan is back."

I smiled, confused, but comforted by the fact. Antonio lifted me into his arms. "You're alive!" he exclaimed happily. "We need to have a fiesta to celebrate!"

Lovino, next to a gleeful Feli, rolled his eyes. "She needs a damn medic," he snapped.

"We need to have a rematch." The joyful atmosphere of the room stiffened dramatically. Yao stood in front of a party of other displeased nations. "The rules clearly states that no nation may physically interfere with a match," he said. "Or else there must be a rematch at a later date- aru."

A few people in my group groaned. "But Annie won the match!" Elizaveta yelled. "Japan admitted so himself."

Rodderich came to Yao's defense, saying, "We weren't talking about that. Someone intervened with the last haft of the match. We all saw it Hungary, it was one of the Italians!" Wait, does he mean that blur I saw earlier, right before I choked Kiku?

Elizaveta glared at her ex-husband. "But Romano and Italy couldn't have," Antonio said. "Both of them never left my sight the whole fight."

"I agree with Austria," Ivan said. I guess I was asking for too much when I hoped he was on my side. "We do need a rematch."

Yao sighed. "Finally, some sense- aru. Who would like to volunteer?"  
>"Me," Ivan (obviously) said.<p>

Matthias stepped forward. "And me too." I looked at him, a little shocked. I expected Ivan, but not the Dane. He saw my look and winked. Oh, I get it. He was going to let me win. Sneaky bastard.

The judge said, "In the event of there being more than one volunteer, the defense must choose who they'll rather fight- aru."

All eyes fixed on me. Biting my lip, I remembered the conversation I had with Ivan earlier. He wanted me to choose him. I was supposed to trust that he wouldn't kill me. I gave shifty glances back and forth. I did trust Matthias though. Even if he was loud, he wouldn't kill me. But I didn't want to kill him.

"Ivan," I said at last. "I choose Ivan Braginski."

"You idiot!" Alfred cried, still hugging his Asian. "Do you want to die?"

Yao nodded. "Fine choice- aru," he said dryly, thinking me stupid. "Do either of you have a preference to when this rematch shall take place- aru?"

I looked at Ivan. The Russian was smiling in his evil-childish way. "Let me think," he said before looking up and giving a long 'ah'. It went on for a minute. "In fifty or so years, da?"

Yao gave a 'aiiya' in shock. The nations on my side of the argument, especially Alfred, roared with laughter. His actions processed in my head. Ivan outsmarted the system. He knew the rules and found the loop hole. I giggled. "You can't do that!" Rodderich exclaimed.

"Yes I can," Ivan replied happily. He walked up to the Austrian and glared down at him, a demonic aura surrounding his body. "And who's going to stop me?"

Yao shoved him away from Rodderich. "I will," he growled. Whoa, someone is challenging Ivan. That's kind of scary.

The room was stiff as the Chinese and Russian glared down at one another. It was a battle of Alpha males; who was the dominant. A few people backed away, in case they started to fight. At last, someone made a move.

Ivan placed a gloved hand on Yao's cheek. "You're not scared of me?" he asked, more curious than intimidating.

The other's cheeks flushed and he brushed the hand away. "Why would I be- aru?" he asked.

The affectionate vibes from Ivan didn't cease. He once again cupped Yao's face, saying, "That's why I like you, da?" He bent down to the Asian's height and kissed his lips softly.

"_They're a couple?_" I wondered as Yao returned the kiss readily. After experiencing a weird mixture of a certain German and Italian, Spaniard and henchman, American and Japanese, and Dane and Norwegian; I found myself no longer surprised or shocked. In fact, it seemed rather normal. Holy crap, I'm being corrupted.

"Aw," I sighed, a little charmed by this display. Elizaveta cursed and covered her nose as it started to bleed again. I smirked.

Antonio raced over to Lovino and engulfed him in another hug. "Kiss me Romano~" he sang.

"No way in he-" Their lips touched and the lovely scene began. Alfred also took that as a cue to start kissing his lover, though Kiku fought his politely, telling him that they needed to take it slowly.

Matthias sighed. "I need to kiss Norway," he said before running across the room, out the window, and calling out the blonde's name. I will presume that they did meet . . . eventually.

I sighed. All this lovey-dovey action made me want to kiss my man. Sadly, I twisted the ring on my finger. But Walter was de- Whoa! Let's just clarify something. I did not love him! Wait, no I did, but in a brother-sister way. Ugh, listen here. I just miss him greatly. I could never ever happily be his wife.

End of story.

The end.

We are dropping the subject.

. . .

Now, back to what the rest of the world was doing.

Ivan broke away from their kiss, saying, "I'm not saying that she's innocent. What I'm saying that this'll remain undecided until fifty years from now."

His other looked down, thinking it over slowly. I could see Yao's face shift in an inner battle of doing what was right and what his lover wanted. He sighed. "Fine- aru," he said. "We'll do what you think is best."

I smiled. Well, I guessed I won. No one had to die. Well, that's not counting Sadiq. Yeah . . . but at least I was a partially a freeman. I stood and felt my world spin. I lost a lot of blood from the gash in my thigh and arm. Plus, my nose was broken again. Swaying a bit, I dragged myself away from the group.

Ludwig was standing away, arms crossed over his chest. He raised an eyebrow when he saw me coming. "What are you doing?" he asked as I stumbled to him.

"You're the only one not high on hormones," I said plainly. "So could you please take me to a medic?"

Then I collapsed.

* * *

><p><strong>April 3, 1944<strong>

**Vash's House**

"Thank you," I said as Ludwig led me from the car and to Vash's house. Matthew and the German had to join forces in taking me to the hospital. Ludwig, because I could not walk on my own and Matthew because Alfred thought that the 'Nazi was going to stab me and throw me into a ditch.'

Then Vash pointed out that it would be better to hide bodies in the Alps.

While I was getting stitches, what's-his-face decided to take to opportunity to apologize. "I'm sorry Annie," he had said. "I didn't know that you didn't mean to kill Ludwig and now you're going to have to fight Ivan someday."

I smiled weakly at him. "Its fine-" I paused. "Um. . . what's your name again?"

"It's Matthew Williams!" he cried softly. "I'm Canada."

Yeah, not the best way to reconnect with someone.

Apparently, while I was at the hospital, Antonio decided that we really did need to celebrate and somehow convinced Vash to throw some sort of party at his house. There were a few nations there, basically the ones who rooted for me and a few neutral ones.

The German opened the Swiss's door and invited himself inside. "A dead maid is no use to me," he huffed. The static between us was plain, but after the events of the day, we both were doing our best to ignore it. Alfred's look-a-like pushed by us and down the hall quickly and out of sight.

I raised an eyebrow. "Maid?" I questioned. My voice sounded nasally with the bandage over it. "I'm still your maid?

He nodded. "Ja. Your contract isn't up yet." I smiled and hummed lightly to myself. We traveled through the corridors, following the noise of the distant party Matthew (that was his name!) no doubt just joined. Ludwig looked down at me. "What are you so happy about?"

With a grin, "If you still want me to be your maid, then that means that you don't hate me completely."

He paused and rolled his eyes. "Nein I still hate you."

"Then why are you keeping me around?"

Ludwig placed a cold finger on my neck and traced the giant bruise. "I want many more opportunities to do this," he said. I shivered before he slammed me against the wall and punch my stomach. I yelped and the wind was knocked from me.

Let's face a simple fact: The day's fatigue weighed heavy on my being.

In simpler terms: I fell to my knees, hugged my stomach, and felt salty tears fall from my eyes.

How embarrassing.

Ludwig glared down at me. "Stand up," he ordered. "I know you can take a lot more than that." Holding back a whimper, I scowled and spat at his boots. He frowned and raised a foot to kick me.

"Stop~!" Feliciano cried. He was standing at a haft-opened door. Light flooded in and the blur of moving figures showed that the party was still going on uninterrupted. His voice barely came over the noise. The Italian ran up to Ludwig was wrapped himself around the German's arm. "Stop!" He cried again, burying his face into his sleeve. "Please stop it Germany! You're going to hurt her!"

The blond snarled and threw Feli off of him. "Get away!" He snapped. The brunette slammed painfully against the other wall.

"Feli!" I yelled, trying to get back to my feet. Ludwig kicked me in the stomach and turned to the Italian.

The nation was sitting against the wall, tears falling profusely from his eyes. Snot was also leaking from his nose. "Germany. . ." he whimpered. He repeated the name over and over again, like a spell meant to protect him.

Ludwig grabbed Feli by the collar of his army coat. He lifted him up into the air and pressed him against the wall. "You're so stupid Italy," he growled, leaning close to his face. "Why would you leave me like that? Did you really think that I would let you walk away like you did?"

"Listen to yourself Germany!" Feli cried harder, sobs racking his body. "This isn't the Germany I love! You're so mean and scary. . ."

The German smirked and leaned in more. "But you still love me." Again, the other whimpered. Ludwig forced his lips upon Feli's. My eyes narrowed and I struggled back onto my feet again. He broke away and, without even looking back at me, kicked his leg back.

It landed right on the bandage on my leg. I gasped and lowered to one knee. "Shit," I growled. "Leave him alone Ludwig."

Said man laughed. "Why should I?" he asked, pressing himself against his victim. "I swear that I will have Italy; by will or force." He started to kiss Feli again, just to have his lip painfully bitten. I smiled as the blood fell down his chin. "Dummkopf," he spat.

He raised a fist to hit him when Feli was dropped to the ground. Ludwig stumbled back a few feet and whipped away a little more blood. "Bruder," he spat, seeing that his elder brother was the assailant. Gilbert glared down at his brother, cracking his fist loudly. The party was still going on interrupted; I wondered how he knew of this fight in the first place.

The following lines were said in complete German, but it was such a great conversation, I cannot bear to leave it out, so here it is, in English.

Gilbert: "What the hell are you doing?"

Ludwig: "Why should it matter to you?"

Gilbert (with a laugh): "To me? It matters to the awesome me because you're hurting Little Italy."

Ludwig: "Arschloch. I might actually care if you still were a country."

Gilbert (yelling): "What does that have to do with anything? I promised Holy Rome that I will protect him and that is what I will do!"

Ludwig (after a short silence): "He's dead. He's been dead since the 1800's. Deal with it."

The elder brother lifted Feli off the ground and threw him over his shoulder. Gilbert glanced down at me for a second before following suit with me. "He's not dead," the Prussian said, switching back to English. "Großen bruder is still alive. I know it. Now if you'll excuse me, the awesome me shall now steal your girl and boyfriend."

The two of us were carried down the hall. I stole one last glance at Ludwig. The German was frowning, a mixture of hurt and hate in his icy eyes. Sometimes I wondered if his whole being was frozen over in a layer of cold hate.

My ears were filled with music and laughter when we entered the party. The room was large and meant for entertainment. The large windows were open, revealing a starry night sky. The walls were painted a welcoming green shade. Couches were filled with nations talking while a few danced to the songs playing on the record player.

On one wall, a long bar with drinks and other beverages. The room's decorations were fine paintings and antique guns. Overall, the party was casual, not the goofy formal feel Tino's Christmas one was.

Gilbert immediately walked across the room to where Elizaveta was talking with Lili. "Comfort him," he ordered, dropping the sill crying Feli into the Hungarian's arms. Without another word, he saluted away. I saw both girls' confused faces before both got to work cooing soothing tones.

"Can you put me down?" I asked as he walked on.

I felt him shake his head. "Nein. We need to have a drink together." I sighed. Great, a drink with Gilbert. That will be loads of fun.

The man dropped me onto a stool by the bar. He took a seat next to me, reaching over the bar and grabbing a large bottle of beer. I crinkled my nose. "What?" he asked, bringing out two cups. "Not awesome enough to like beer?"

"No I like beer," I said. "I just prefer wine, or whisky, or rum-"

Gilbert frowned as he poured me a glass. "So you like beer the least."

I accepted the cup from him. "No. I despise American moonshine."

"That's because only heroes can take that stuff." We both rolled our eyes as Alfred took the seat at my other side.

"Are you saying that I'm not awesome enough to handle it?" The other demanded, looking incredibly offended.

The American laughed. "Not at all bro," he said before standing again. He nudged me and pointed to a corner of the room. Yao and Kiku were seated across from each other at the couches. They were hunched over and talking in hushed voices. I could only guess that they were fixing their 'strained' relationship. "I'm so gonna make-up with Japan now," he said excitedly."Wish me luck!"

However, before he walked away, he whispered quickly into my ear, "And I hope you know that moonshine is illegal in the states." With that, he was gone, declaring loudly that the hero wanted to talk to his boyfriend.

I shrugged it off. "Okay, that was weird," I said before taking another drink.

"Ja," Gilbert agreed. "So unawesome." We drank in silence for a few moments, enjoying the beer's bitter taste and the alcohol's burn. I watched the rest of the dealings in the room.

Ivan was with Belarus and Ukraine, talking happily. Lovino and Antonio were in a corner . . . kissing. Tino, Berwald, Matthias, Norway, and another white haired man were seated at a couch, joking around happily. I noticed Ludwig walk in calmly. His composure was regained and he immediately went to Rodderich, who had been previously glaring in Elizaveta's direction.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" I said, finally breaking our mutual silence.

Gilbert refilled his glass. "Sure."

I took another long drink. Maybe the alcohol would make this easier for me to ask. "You told Ludwig that 'he's not dead'," I said. Red eyes lowered to the ground. "Can you tell me who you two were talking about?"

The platinum blond was silent for a long moment, deciding whether or not to tell me. He finished off his full glass in one gulp. Maybe he was also trying to alcohol trick. "Our older brother," he said at last. Again, he refilled his glass. "His name was the Holy Roman Empire. He was an awesome kid. Though it was a bit strange." He smiled and took another drink.

"We countries age weirdly," Gilbert explained. "Basically, we age to mirror our country's maturity, but for some reason, Holy Rome chose to stay a little kid. It was because he loved little Italy. So I grew up faster than he did."

"Well, one unawesome day, Francis let's Napoleon start a war and we both went off to fight. Let's just say no one's seen him since. A lot of people say he's dead, but I don't think so. I say he's awesome enough to still be alive."

I nodded, absorbing all of that. "Oh, I see." I took another drink. "Does Ludwig like Holy Rome?"

Gilbert shook his head. "Not at all. Even though they've never met, Germany hates his guts." He sighed and muttered, "Really unawesome."

"Do you and Ludwig hate each other?" I asked, hoping that I wasn't prying.

He didn't seem to mind. "A little," he replied. "It's mostly his politics."

"And I bet you do whatever it takes to annoy him," I laughed.

He joined in. "Ja. Why else would the awesome me work so hard to save you?"

My jaw dropped. "You were on my side just to spite him?"

Gilbert grinned. "Ja."

I didn't know whether to be humored or horrified. In the end, my mouth dropped before laughing, "Sneaky bastard." He grinned to me in reply. This was making some sense, though I really did need to study more German history. I guess then that'll make a little more- I chocked upon realization.

Gilbert saw me and slapped a heavy hand on my back. "What's wrong?" he asked.

My hand flew to my chest. "My Iron Cross!" I exclaimed, checking to see if it was there. Of course it wasn't. "I left it back at the conference center!"

He ruffled my short hair. "Aw no worry the awesome me will get you a new one," the Prussian declared.

"No, don't," I said, shaking my head. "It has a sentimental value."

"So it's one of those irreplaceable things?" he huffed. I nodded. "That's so unawesome." I frowned and he laughed. "No worry. Though I'm a bit curious, where did you get an Iron Cross in the first place?"

I gave a long sigh. "It's a long story."

"Let me grab another awesome beer then." Refreshed with beers, the story of my mother's death came from my mouth slowly. I hadn't told the story in awhile. The theory of Ludwig killing my mom came back to me. Maybe that was still true, but my head felt clouded.

At the moment, it seemed more logical if Dad was the one who did it. If I thought about it, then sense was made. I was a little girl when I saw everything happen. I couldn't have fully comprehended the events. Dad probably killed her. Yeah, that was it. Patrick Henson killed his own wife.

"_Choose a side and stick with it,"_ I scolded mentally as my story came to a close.

Gilbert's expression changed dramatically through it all. At first, he listened uncaring until I mentioned the monster. Then he choked on his beer. Red eyes went wide when I got to the part of my mother ripping off the Iron Cross.

I ended the story by saying, "And when he got back up, he nodded to me and ran away." He didn't say a word. I waited for him to speak, but nothing left his mouth.

"Are you okay Gilbert?" I asked, placing a hand on his forehead. Could he be feeling ill? "Is something-" I yelped as he roughly grabbed my wrist and slammed it on the bar's counter.

The glasses shook, but the party went on unaware. "What are you doing?" I demanded, trying to yank my arm free.

"You were the little girl," he whispered. His white face was even paler with shock. "All this time you were the little girl."

The realization hit me. "You were there," I gasped. "You were there when Mom . . ." I punched him across the jaw. His hand released mine.

His red eyes turned deadly. "What the hell was that for?" he demanded, clutching his jaw.

I glared at him. "Why didn't you do something?" I came in for another hit, but Gilbert caught my fist. He twisted my arm and I flipped over onto the ground. I grimaced and held back another gasp.

Boom!

I covered my ears and the gun shot rang clearly. Gilbert fell off his stood and landed with a thud next to me. A blood puddle formed under his head. You know, by now I should have been shock that a man just got shot in the head, but I wasn't even slightly bothered. Okay, I was, but not very much.

The room was silent as they stared at the shooter: who else but Vash. "Why did you do that big bruder?" Lili asked, cowering a little bit next to Elizaveta.

Vash shrugged. "He was annoying me," he stated plainly. Alright, I'll go with that.

The room was stiff for a moment before the blond remembered why he needed every one's attention in the first place. "I just got a call from Britain's boss," he said. "And Britain's missing."

* * *

><p><strong>MW: <strong>Yeah, I rushed the ending a bit, but things are starting to heat up, eh? . . . You know, there was something about this chapter that I wanted to talk about, but I really can't remember . . .

Moving on, well people, we're at the FINAL STRETCH! That's right; I estimate five or so more chapters before this is over. We're at a little over 70 reviews, but I think that we can be over 100 if we try.

But readers always need a little extra encouragement, so I'm offering up TWO CONTEST! *applause*

The first is for reviewing. Whoever gets the 100th review will win a Hetalia one-shot of their choice. It could be about anything as long as there is no sex. Torture? Go right ahead. Birds and the bees? Ah, no. Sorry.

The second is for fan art. Anyone who submits any kind of fan art will receive the opportunity to choose the prompts for the ending omakes. However, all pieces submitted will be automatically entered in a second contest to win a Hetalia one-shot as well (same restrictions as before). All art will be judges for CONCEPT, not how well you draw, just what you are trying to say (that sounded cliché). BFTL and SEK shall help me judge (once I tell them about this. . .) All fan art for contest is due one week after final chapter.

There will be multiple omakes and the same person can win both contests. So, does that sound fair? Any questions? PM, Review, or contact me through our deviant/you tube (links for those in profile)

Good Luck peeps~!

**Fun facts and Translations**

"Ficken" Fuck. German

"Bocsánat" Sorry. Hungarian.

"Nonno Roma" Grandpa Rome. Italian.

"Schwein." Pig. German.

"To a Maunsell Sea Fort off the coast of Suffolk, England" Kudos to those who can figure out what I was hinting.

"Dieu aime potins." God loves gossip. French.

"Désolé" Sorry. French.

"Très triste" Very sad. French.

"Mammaires" Breast. French

"hugging a blond female for comfort" Belgium for those wondering.

"during the Second Sin-Japanesse War . . ." True story, though I wonder if in Hetalia terms if that is considered as Japan raping China?

"Tristeza" Saddness. Spanish

"Buena suerte!" Good Luck. Spanish.

"Andiamo" Let's go! Italian.

"Un passo indietro!" Step back! Italian.

"Dummkopf" Fool. German.

"Großen bruder" Big Brother. German.

"His name was the Holy Roman Empire." I tried to make this as historically accurate, but the wikipage I was relying on made no sense to me whatsoever. Sorry!

**Next Chapter:** Annie and the world investigate Britain's disappearance.

*****SINCE I AM BRIBING YOU ALL WITH ONE-SHOTS, YOU ALL MUST REVIEW!*****


	16. The Definition of Fransexual

**SEK**: Hey, guys. I'm back! How was your New Years? Though **MW** was the one to proofread this, so why am I here?

**MW**: Well truthfully I missed your presence.

**SEK**: Naw, how sweet.

**MW**: *sigh* Anyways, compared to my other chapters, this is a short chapter. What we basically have here is 16 pages of set-up for the rest of the story and some of that France character development I kept on deleting.

**SEK**: Anyways, we hope you enjoy. And remember to review and part take in the chance to win a one-shot.

**MW**: Yeah, though food for thought: If everyone watching this story reviewed for this one chapter, we'll be over 100 reviews. Just think about that.

**SEK**: Right. So, now what you've all been waiting for! Let's revive **BFTL**! Chant the spell, **MW**!

***MW** chants spell* *Bright flash of light*

**Chapter Summary:** In the quest for Britain, Annie and the rest of the important people run into a coward.

**Warnings:** Language, Blood, Hinted violence, Death.

**Disclaimer:** If this is still on , then it's still not owned by me.

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 16~<strong>

**The Definition of Fransexual**

* * *

><p><strong>April 4, 1944<strong>

**A Military Base by London, England**

"Welcome back to the land of silly accents and bad cooking!" Alfred proclaimed as we exited the plane. The day was cloudy and rain threatened the world . . . like usual. I stumbled off the aircraft, swaying a bit. You know, most civilians could only dream of flying in one of those. I should feel honored to have ridden in the a few times, but that was had to do when your lunch wanted to jump up your throat.

The privates on the base looked at us oddly. I guessed at they never seen so many diverse people at once. Or what appeared to be a girl in a bloodied English military uniform with a large cast on her face. "Quiet Alfred," Ludwig ordered, using their 'human' names (too many people around, someone might overhear). "We have a limited schedule."

The American smiled and wrapped an arm around his younger brother's shoulder. "Correction, you have a limited schedule," he said. "We just have to go to the king and see what he knows." I should probably explain what was going on.

Well, shortly after Vash's revealing of the missing nation, the former partiers went into secrecy mode. To my utter confusion, they locked the doors and gathered in a circle around the room, ignoring the dead Prussian.

"Shouldn't we tell the other nations?" I suggested when they started to split themselves into teams.

All of them looked at me as if I was crazy. Elizaveta pulled me aside and explained softly into my good ear, "Not until absolutely necessary. You see, your little trial has caused a big stir in our everyday lives and we were lucky to get you off the hook."

I shrugged. "Well not really, I have to face Ivan in a few decades."

The girl paused. "Yes, but that's not the point. The point is now Britain is missing. If we are not careful then someone might pin you to the crime."

Raising an eyebrow, I looked pass her and to the gathered nations. She did have a point, but I still didn't understand one thing. "But why?" I asked. "Why would all of you go through so much trouble to protect me?"  
>Elizaveta smiled and hugged me. "Everyone in this room believed that you were a good person, no matter what happened," she said. Did she even realize that she was including Yao and Roderich in this statement? Her breath danced on my skin, sending Goosebumps down my back. We continued our embrace for a minute longer before rejoining the rest of the group.<p>

In the end, we had a search strategy planned. We were all spilt into six groups; each assigned a certain area of the island. Apparently, this is not the first time Arthur has been kidnapped. In the past, the Brit did something to piss off his older brothers (I never knew he had some) and they hid him in a pub in Wales. So, five teams were going to search Ireland, Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland, and England. The sixth group was going to talk to King George IV.

"With Britain gone, we need to sort out the government," Ivan said. "And if I remember correctly, that power still lies with the monarchy."

Alfred huffed, "Democracy is better." Then an argument assumed in whose government was better. I was silently agreeing with Alfred until the Russian pulled out his pipe. I would prefer not to recollect what happened.

But for those curious, Vash had latter yelled at Ivan for ruining his carpet.

"Alfred-san is right Ludwig-san," Kiku said, breaking up their small argument. "We must start our search now before we lose Arthur-san even more."

The German scanned the base before giving a sigh. "Ja."

"Sir!" A soldier's panicky voiced cried out. "Why is there a dead body on here?" I feel so bad for the army sometimes, though I should clarify. We brought the still dead Gilbert with us. They said he'll wake up, though I have no idea when. I spent the whole plane ride over cradling his head on my lap, watching the bullet hole slowly heal. Maybe that's why I feel a bit nauseous right now . . .

Ludwig sighed and marched back onto the plane, saying, "Just shove him into our car." Wow, nice to know that you respect the dead, Ludwig.

It was silent for a few moments as we sorted out our groups. Alfred, Matthew, Yao, and Russia were the nations going to go see the king. Ludwig, Kiku, Elizaveta, Lovino, Francis, Gilbert (when he wakes up), and I were going to search for the Brit ourselves. Which reminds me. . .

"Why am I here?" I asked suddenly, a little more than slightly confused.

Francis heard me and wrapped an arm around me. "Isn't it obvious, ma chère?" he asked. "You're British; therefore you know where to search first."

I shoved him away, saying, "Well I have not the slightest clue where we should start."

The handsome man started to say something, but he was drowned by a private, calling out loudly, "Commanders!" as he waved a folded piece of paper in the air.

The American of the group smiled. "That's us!" he beamed. "We're the commanders!" Many (including myself) smacked our foreheads. Lovino muttered something about killing the 'hamburger bastard' soon.

The private extended the paper to him. "A telegram from Scotland Yard, sir," he said.

Alfred accepted it with hesitance. "Scotland Yard?" he asked. I highly doubted he even knew what it was.

Unfortunately, the other did not know our Alfred like we do. "Yes sir. They were informed to forward any information regarding Commander Kirkland be given to you." With the mention of Arthur's name, we swarmed the American, begging him read it.

He quickly dismissed the private and adjusted his glasses. "Alright, I'll read it," he said. A huge grin danced upon his lips. He was enjoying the attention a little too much. He cleared his throat and read: "'we regret to inform you that a double homicide has taken place in the military building Commander Arthur Kirkland works at, stop. On April 1st, 1944; an emergency call went out to Scotland Yard from pedestrians who heard multiple guns shot from inside A- in London, and has been stormed by the police, stop. They discovered two unidentified bodies, stop. Please come as soon as you can, stop. By your request, police have been guarding the building, but none have touched the evidence, stop. We wait for your arrival, stop. Scotland Yard.'"

We were silent for a long moment. Murders? Where Arthur works? The Brit couldn't die, so perhaps he killed someone else. Or maybe someone killed him and he hadn't woken up yet. "Pauvre l'Angleterre," Francis muttered as Ludwig emerged from the plane with a dead Gilbert on his back.

"What happened here?" he asked nonchalantly. Alfred handed him the telegram. His cold eyes read over every word. I wondered if he really cared about the situation at hand or if he was just going along with this to make some military move when the Allies lease expected it. "What are we doing then?" he demanded. "If we wait any longer, then the trail will go cold. Auf Geht's!"

Awaking from our state of shock, we all gathered back into our groups and approached our cars. "See ya later!" Alfred called, taking the driver's seat of his as Yao, Ivan, and Matthew climbed into the passenger's.

The rest of us had to squeeze into a black automobile. In fact, with an extra person in tow, one of us had to sit on some one's lap. "I vote Annie," Lovino said, taking driver's as Elizaveta took shot-gun. Ludwig, Francis, and Kiku said their agreements.

"What!" I exclaimed. "I am not-"

The German glared at me. "As your boss, I order you to."

With an eye roll, "That didn't work the first time, so why would it work now?"

He groaned before climbing into the back seat. An arm wrapped itself around my waist and a warm breath cooed, "You can sit of my lap you know."

I shrieked and pushed Francis away. "Can I take the trunk?" I asked.

Kiku climbed into the car as well, saying, "Gilbert-san is in the trunk." Let's see, rolling around in a trunk with an unconscious, good looking man was a VERY tempting offer. But I'm not some obsessed teenager bent on marrying an albino, so I'll say no thank you.

I looked the French man in the eye. I really wasn't going to be able to escape this. "If you put your hands anywhere near my butt, I swear I will take a spoon and shove it down your throat," I threaten, pointing an accusing finger in his face.

"Je vous promets," He purred before taking a window seat. He patted his lap and waited for me to join him. I frowned when a mental image of Michelle kissing Francis at the Christmas party came to mind.

"_I hate my life,"_ I thought sourly, carefully climbing inside and sitting on him. Also most immediately, he wrapped his arms around my waist. "Didn't I say to keep your hands off," I snapped, failing my arms as I tried to break free. Ludwig rolled his eyes and caught my elbow before I accidentally jabbed him.

The car lunged forward as Lovino drove us to A-. Elizaveta brought up what they were going to do when they reach the building. I tried to follow their conversation, but the Frenchman kept pulling me closer to himself. The anger boiled over as he caressed my sides. I whispered harshly, "Would you stop it?"

Francis pulled me closer and rubbed his hands down my waist. Before I could swat him away, he whispered into my ear, "Come on now, why are you so shy?"

"Why are you such a pervert?" I demanded. "Do you only like people for their bodies?" Surprisingly, the blonde's eyes shone with melancholy. My own went wide- what did I say?

The rest of the car's conversation continued on without interruption. After a long while, Francis said, "If I told you the story, would you not tell l'Angleterre?" The request was odd. What was so ground breaking that I couldn't tell Arthur?

Dread came over me. _"What if those two used to be a couple?"_ I thought, irritated. Seriously, was there a single person here who was straight? Besides myself? Slowly, I nodded.

He took a long breath. "Where do I start?" he asked himself. After another long minute of musing, he said, "During the Hundred Years War, there was a certain lady I loved." Thank God, he was mildly straight! The again, this was the personification of France. He was probably Fransexual.

Fransexual (n): The lack of sexual discrimination against man, woman, animal, and object. Originated in France.

"However," he continued. "She was a woman of God. Even though she had dedicated her life to helping me, she would not even take part in simple flirting." The blond smiled to himself. "Perhaps, that is why I love her, for her constant rejections. But I still fought on and eventually, the other countries heard of her.

"L'Angleterre claimed that she was a witch and she was jeopardizing the security of our secrecy. So she went on trial- much like you did -and was found guilty . . . L'Angleterre burned her."

My eyes soften and I felt pity for the man. "So Arthur killed your lover?" I asked. Francis nodded. He suddenly made a lot more sense. Perhaps he still misses his girl and flirts just to cover the fact. That was so sweet and cliché. I loved it and said, "Can I ask you something?"

Immediately, he returned to his normal demeanor. "Anything, ma chère."

"I can't tell Arthur about this because this is why you always harass him," I said. "Right?"

The blond was silent for a moment. The car stopped and I looked out the window. A- was in plain sight. "Oui," Francis softly replied as Lovino parked the car in front. The building was tall and made of brick. It was in close proximity to Big Ben and Buckingham palace.

The doors were tapped off by yellow police tape and a constable stood outside, on guard for any trouble makers. He saw us and marched proudly to the driver's window. "Civilians are not allowed to park here," he proclaimed, frowning at the car's occupants.

Lovino lowered the window and gave him a 'you got to be kidding me' look. From his pocket, the Italian pulled out what looked to be a passport. He opened it to the back pages and held it out to the constable. "Do you know what the hell this is?" the Italian asked.

The other squinted at the writing before his mouth dropped. "You're superior showed this to you, si?" He nodded hastily. Lovino smiled cruelly. "Good. That means you know to gather the other police officers and get the fuck out of here." The officer stood frozen in place. "Now!"

"Yes sir!" He saluted nervously before running back into the building, calling his fellows out.

I gave the Italian a curious look. "What did you show him?" I asked, opening the door and finally getting off the Frenchman's lap. Relief!

Lovino shrugged. "Why the hell would we tell you?" Frowning, I gave a pleading look to Elizaveta. She sadly shook her head, sealing her lips shut. Really? None of them were going to tell me? Seriously? Geeze. . .

We stood outside for a few minutes, waiting for the officers to file out completely. They all gave us awed looks, giving me cause to wonder even more. What the heck did Lovino show them? Finally the last man, the head detective, shuffled out. He looked at us sadly and warned, "Be careful in there sirs, it's mighty bad in there."

Kiku nodded. "They said that there were two bodies, omawari-san."

He gave the Asian a crazy look, wondering what in the world he was just called. He reasoned that by the polite tone, it was something good. Then his green eyes went hard at realizing that Kiku was Japanese. Racist, war struck bastard. "That's true," he said. "We haven't touched them."

My heart dropped. They haven't removed them yet? I was going to have to look at them? You know, there was a huge difference between seeing someone die and knowing that they'll come back to life and seeing someone who was, well, dead. "It's been a few days, so the smell a bit" the constable continued. He started to march off, but quickly added, "And don't ruin any of the evidence."

We watched him enter his automobile and speed off. "Rude bastard," Lovino spat.

"What do you mean Romano-san?" Kiku asked. "I thought he was rather kind."

Ludwig and I rolled our eyes. Poor, simple naive Kiku. He was too polite for his own good. "Let's go inside," the German loudly ordered. "I want to get this over with."

As they entered the building, I took one last glance at the London streets. The crowds were going on unnoticed; however, there were a few staring. No doubt they had heard the distinct German accent. They passed unsure glances between each other. I scowled at them and quickly went inside.

The first recognizable thing was the lobby. Papers were scattered everywhere, but no bodies. "What happened here?" Francis asked, kicking away at some of the papers. There were a few foot prints on the undersides.

Elizaveta bent down and gathered some of them. Kiku quickly joined her. "I don't know," she said. Her green eyes scanned the papers slowly. "I still can't read English very well, but I don't see isn't anything significant on these."

"Perhaps they were searching for something?" I suggested, attempting to be helpful. I was never a fan of mystery novels or mysteries themselves. To me, they were an annoyance that could have easily been taken care of with a gun. Especially when I had to study the Sherlock Holmes novels in secondary school. Why would anyone hired an eccentric drunk to be their detective? l don't know about Doyle, but I certainly wouldn't.

Lovino huffed and pushed by me. "Well they didn't find it here," the Italian said, taking a seat at the receptionist's desk. "Emily had nothing to share."

"Emily?" I asked, joining him at the desk. "Who's Emily?"

The desk was in no better condition, though the Italian still found it necessary to search all the drawers. "Emily Basil, she's the receptionist. Damn bitch was always trying to flirt with Veneziano and me."

I rolled my eyes. "Right."

Ludwig took the nice time to join us at the desk. "What are you looking for?" he demanded.

I sighed and Lovino's scowl grew deeper. For a second, he looked as though he was going to burst, but instead he contained himself. "Well Potato bastard," he sneered, voice drenching with poison. "Emily has a book here with each country's picture and human name, but-" he banged an open drawer shut. "-it's fucking gone!"

Everyone in the room- minus me -froze. I stood stupidly, trying to figure out the significance of it. Ludwig smoothed his hair back before groaning "Heilige scheiße" in frustration.

I sighed. "Excuse me for being stupid," I said. "But what is the problem? It's just a book."

I received four 'you got to be kidding me' looks. Francis grimaced as he approached me. "Ma chère, it's like this-" He searched for the proper words. "-The people who have that book now know our 'human' names and our appearances."

"Yeah. And? They don't know that you're countries," I resorted.

Ludwig smacked me behind the head. "Well why else would they attack this place?" he asked, extremely crossed with me. "Are you really that dense?"

Rubbing the back of my head, I scowled. "No." Lovino, Ludwig, and Francis gave me looks of disbelief. Kiku and Elizaveta were too polite to join them. I sighed- I had to prove it to them. "Well if it helps, I think I know who did this."

"Humor me," the German said dryly.

Twitching with anger, I told him. "My brother, David." They were silent. "Since my dad is dead, he and I were supposed to have inherited the family business," I elucidated. "And since I'm not on 'his side' anymore, David is in charge and knowing him-"

"We understand Annie-san," Kiku uncharacteristically interrupted. "We are just a bit surprise."

I raised an eyebrow. "Surprised?"

"Igen, surprised," Elizaveta said. "We didn't expect you to have the same speculations as us."

"Or fucking admit it," (who else?) Lovino added.

I frowned. What did they see me as? Some emotional adolescent who couldn't think straight? I knew the facts and I was more than ready to except them. Simmering, I moved from behind the desk and through the nearest open door. "Come on," I urged. "There's more to see than missing books."

The countries were quick to follow me. The hall before us was dimly light and barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. It was lined with multiple doors, though I didn't make a move to open any of them. I was secretly afraid that it I did a giant grey monster would appear and eat me.

"_That's silly_," I told myself. Even so, I was still worried. Seeking comfort, I gave my imaginary monster the name 'Steve'. It made me snicker. I didn't know about you guys, but naming a monster something like 'Steve' is kind of silly.

"So where the hell are these dead bodies?" Lovino asked, breaking the silence. "That damn officer made it out-" he paused. We could see a sharp corner a few yards ahead. A pool of blood and a women's leg was in plain view. "Like a . . ." He picked up pace, nearly sprinting to the scene. "Fucking . . ." The Italian stood, frozen as he gazed at the scene. " . . . Massacre."

We chased after him, dreading the sight we might see. The deceased was a middle aged lady. Her pink floral dress was stain in blood and her back was riddled with bullet holes. Dead eyes stared at the wall and a surprised, ridged mouth hung opened. "It's Emily Basil," Lovino muttered. He knelt to her and closed her eyes. "Riposa in pace."

Elizaveta squeezed his shoulder. Goosebumps raked my body as I tried not to shake. Did David do this? She was an elderly woman- practically harmless! Why would he- "Don't worry, ma chère," Francis cooed, mimicking the Hungarian's method for comfort. "I will protect you."

I scoffed and brushed his hand away. "Says he who surrendered after two weeks." The blond looked legitimately insulted and didn't try to salvage his pass on me.

Meanwhile, Ludwig lightly nudged the corpse, checking to see if she was really dead. "There's one body," he said. "So where is the other?" Once again, his eyes were cold and uncaring. Didn't he care that an innocent person died?

Kiku stepped around Emily and checked the rest of the hall. This one was different due to there only being one door on each side. One of them was already slightly opened. His dark eyes went wide when he looked inside. "Ludwig-san, Annie-san," he called. "Would you please come look at this?"

The German and I exchanged a look. What could have possibly happened that rendered the need for both of us? We made our way to the Asian. He silently pointed a finger to the ground inside.

Ludwig silently nodded in appreciation.

I stared.

The room before us appeared to be Arthur's office. There was evidence of it being neatly organized, but a bookshelf and spilt cabinets ruined it. The desk was tipped over and a thin antique sword was stuck in it rather epically. It all topped another body completely; the only limp in full view was their arm. The index finger was pointed and covered in blood. The person had written a message before they died; just one word.

_David_.

My shakes grew fierce. My hands slowly reached my mouth has I gave a horrified gasped. "So it was him," I whispered, inching away from the door.

As the other three made their way to us, Ludwig gave me a satisfied smirk. "I thought you knew that," he taunted. I clenched my fist as I resisted the urge to strangle him. Yes, it would be smarter to kill him in his sleep.

"Please leave her alone," Kiku said, walking into the room. He observed the scene carefully. Francis and Lovino followed his lead, checking the discarded papers and books.

Ludwig shrugged, saying, "Just stating the obvious." I leaned against the opposite wall and stared blankly at the scene. I only vaguely noticed Elizaveta wrapping her arm around me. The German reached over the pile of ruined furniture and drew the sword. "Isn't this Britain's?" he asked, turning it carefully in his hands.

Francis took it from him and ran a finger down the cool metal. "Oui," the blond confirmed. "He used to fight with this all the- Qu'est-ce que c'est?" He held the blade in better light and I saw what he meant. There was another blood message. It was carefully written in small, smudged writing. By now, it looked completely dried; like paint.

He squinted his blue eyes and held it close to his face. "A little hard to read," he muttered before reading aloud: "'Call him.'"

"'Call him?'" Lovino repeated, dropping the book he was observing. "What the fuck does that mean?"

All eyes traveled to me. "What?" I exclaimed. Since I have the deranged brother, obviously I would understand it. Even though I have proven how 'smart' and 'amazing' I can be, I also had no idea in hell what it meant either. "I just as dumb as you gits right now."

They groaned. Once again, I was frustrating them. Ludwig kicked away a chair before rallying everyone to help him dissect the rest of the pile. "If we find out who's under all this, then maybe the message would make a lot more sense," he explained.

As the four nations worked away, I tried to find the reasoning behind that. I understood what Ludwig was saying, though for all we know, the dead man never wrote the message. First off: the sword belongs the Arthur, so he would probably be the only one in possession of it long enough. Secondly: the sword was at the TOP of the pile. I don't think I need to explain myself there.

"Hey Annie!" Elizaveta's voice brought me back to reality. "Do you recognize him?" They had cleared away the pile and the deceased was in plain view. He was a slight man, but strongly built. His head was still down, but his cherry-blonde hair was familiar.

Too familiar.

I slowly walked up to him, afraid of whom he may be. It was silent as I knelt down to him. Biting my lip, I tilted his head to the side, to look at his face and saw his broken circular glasses. For the longest moment, everything was quiet. "Who is he?" Ludwig asked impatiently. "I know you know him."

Elizaveta hushed him. I didn't speak for another long minute. "David didn't do this."

The German and Lovino groaned as the other two exchanged glances. The blond was twitching with anger, doing his best to keep himself calm. He growled, "Didn't we just agree-"

"David didn't do this," I repeated, louder. I tried to make my voice have that final tone to it.

"Why?" Ludwig demanded. "Give us one good reason why."

I took a very deep breath and motioned to the corpse. "This man here is named James Fisher," I explained.

He rolled his eyes. "So?"

"James is David's best friend!" I yelled. My head ached in frustration and unshed tears. "I know my brother and he wouldn't kill his best friend! He's not like that-"

Ludwig smacked some sense in to me. Literally. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and slapped me across the face. "Wake-up!" he yelled back. "This isn't your perfect word anymore you spoil little brat! You're bruder is a hard cold killer or did you forget that?"

I bit my lip shut and refused to answer. The nation boxed my good ear, ordering, "Answer me!" A very heavy frying pan made contact with the back of his head. He released me and focused his anger on the Hungarian. "What the hell?"

Elizaveta rolled her eyes and twirled the cookery ware in her hand. I wondered where she keeps that. "Calm down," she ordered. "Both of you. I don't know why you two hate each other when you're so much alike-"

"Excuse me?" Ludwig and I chorused.

"-but that's not the point. We came here for Britain, not for you two bicker over everything! Mindketten úgy viselkedik, mint éretlen gye-" Realizing that she was speaking in her native tongue; the woman paused and took a deep breath.

She marched to me and lifted me to my feet. "You need some air," Elizaveta said, leading me out the door and down the hall. "Let's get you back to the car." We passed by Emily Basil and through the lobby doors. The outside air relieved my head ache a little, but the normal noises of London crowds brought it back on.

The Hungarian opened the car's passenger's door and motioned for me to take a seat. "I'm fine," I rejected, accepting the offer anyways. My counterproductive action caused the girl to smile and feel my cheeks.

"I can tell it was becoming too much for you dear," she comforted, making sure I didn't have a fever. "It's alright to admit it."

"But I'm fine!" I snapped.

She sighed. "I'm going to go back in now," she said. "Well come out again once we finish gathering information. I want you to stay here-"

"-but-"

"-and I'm taking the keys with me. So if you do leave, our car's going to get stolen and Germany will be very upset with you." I gave her a defiant look. "And Prussia is still in the trunk so watch over him until he wakes up."

I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. Damn, she really had me cornered here. "Deal," I spat, unhappily.

The Hungarian smiled and pinched my cheek. "You're such a child," she cooed before skipping merrily away.

I sat dumnfolded. Child? What? I was in my mid twenties! How does that make sense? I groaned.

The clouds in the sky were breaking and I saw the orange shades of sunset. It was already that late? Geeze, I didn't think we spent that long in there. The car shook and I swore I heard a distinct click sound. I glanced at the trunk; was Gilbert awake? When nothing happened, I shrugged it off and returned to my musing. Well, I was going to be stuck here for a long while; I might as well pounder her words.

Damn, I sounded like Confucius

According to Elizaveta, I was a child. I guess from her point of view, it made sense. She was- what? -a few hundred years old and I was only twenty-six. In her opinion, I guess I really was only a little kid to her. But doesn't that mean that I'm also a child to the rest of the nations?

The fact horrified me. So they looked down on me? Man, they much think I'm stupid or something. Doesn't that also mean that Ludwig takes part in child abuse?

At last, the nations shuffled out, bringing only Arthur's sword. "Did you have fun?" I asked, finding my sense of humor again.

Ludwig rolled his eyes and took the driver's seat. "Loads," he replied dryly. Before anyone else could, I stole shot-gun, causing Lovino to curse and resign himself to sitting in the back.

"So where are we going now?" I asked.

The German ignited the engine and replied, "The hotel. We're going to rest for the night and resume our search tomorrow."

"Hotel?"

"Yes, where else are we suppose to stay?"

I smiled and twiddled my thumbs innocently. "Well why don't we save some money and just go to my house-"

"Nein." He didn't even hesitate."Since this has everything to do with your bruder, your house is the least safe place to stay at."

"But he's three steps ahead of us," I pointed out. And no, I wasn't admitting to the idea of David killing James. At this point, it would be much safer to just avoid another argument. "He would have figured that we wouldn't had bothered going there and just skip watching the place completely. Plus it's really nice, right Lovi?"

Due to our lack of space, Elizaveta was sitting on the Italian's lap. "Don't fucking call me that!" he snapped.

I shrugged. "He agrees," I clarified.

Ludwig tapped the steering wheel for a long moment, thinking about this. "I think it'll be fine Germany-san," Kiku voiced. "It's kind of Annie-san to invite us into her home."

"Oui, Oui," Francis added, holding Arthur's sword on his lap. "To be invited into her home, a very rare offer, non?"

I frowned. "Don't make it sound perverted," I warned.

"Alright, fine." The German stepped out of the car. "You have to drive, though."

I smiled and switched placed with him. "It'll be my pleasure."

* * *

><p><strong>April 4, 1944<strong>

**My House**

"Looks small," Ludwig commented as we pulled up to my home. I smiled at him and climbed out of the car.

"Well I live alone," I replied as everyone else followed my lead. I received a few polite comments from Francis, Kiku, and Elizaveta as I walked up the front steps. From underneath the doormat, I fished out my spare key and unlocked the front door.

Inside didn't look changed at all. Everything was in the crisp condition I left it in. I smiled and turned on the foyer lights. I hoped I had some food left to make something with, though I doubted it.

"Was zum Teufel!" Ludwig yelled, followed by an unfamiliar 'shit.' Curious, I turned and saw the car trunk opened. The German was pulling a blond from the trunk as Francis proceeded to sexually harass the crap out of him. Meanwhile, Elizaveta and Kiku were trying to lift the (still) asleep Gilbert from the trunk. Lovino was rolling on the pavement, laughing his ass off.

It took me a second to realize who the stranger was. _"Not him,_" I thought, groaning silently. Out of everyone to track me down, it just had to be him! "_Maybe he wouldn't recognize me-_"

"Damnit Henson! Help me!" our intruder called out. Guess not.

I sighed and marched down the steps. "Give me one good reason why I should," I said, a cruel smile drawn on my face.

Francis laughed his French laugh. He asked, "You know him, ma chère?"

I nodded. "Yup. Gentlemen, this is Rodger Parker." My smile grew bigger. "Rodger Parker, this is your worst nightmare."

Lovino, finally regaining his composure, stood to his feet. He scowled and spat in Rodger's face, saying, "I remember you asshole. You had the damn balls to mess with my fratello."

Rodger frowned and fought against the German's hold. He snapped his teeth like an out of control dog. "Oh I remember you too," he growled, trying to kick the Italian. "You're the pussy who ran away without a fight." Lovino curtly punched in the jaw.

Kiku tapped my shoulder. "Have Lovino-san and Parker-san met before?" he asked, holding Prussia's feet in his hands.

I nodded. "Yeah, it didn't end well."

After a few more complaints from Rodger, Ludwig dropped him to the ground, just to pin him onto the car. With all the noise they were making, I wondered why none of the neighbors have come outside to complain yet. "How did you get into our trunk?" he demanded. I read his face to be incredibly pissed off. It was similar to when he first discovered that I was a girl. Brings backs memories, huh?

Good times. Good times.

Rodger glanced about, hoping to find anyone on his side. When he saw that the streets were empty, he tried his luck with me. "Help me Henson!" he begged. "You're not just going to let this Nazi kill me, are you?" Ludwig's grip tightened at the political status. I crossed my arms and said nothing. "Come on! What about all the things I've done for you?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Like what?" I asked. "Last I check, you hated my guts."

He opened his mouth, but quickly shut it again. "The wedding!" he exclaimed at last, finding something worth mentioning. "When those Nazis-" The German pressed him harder. "Ow! When they came to grab you, I came to your defense! Remember?"

I pretended to think it over. "Ah, no," I replied. "You still owe me big time for just about everything else you've done in your pathetic life."

"Damnit Henson!" He cursed again.

Lovino laughed and patted my back. "So the bitch is an asshole when she wants to be," he mused, enjoying this a little too much. I grinned in reply.

"Let's take this inside," Ludwig growled, lifting the man over his shoulders. "The neighbors are going to have a fit if their street becomes a crime scene."

I snickered as Rodger gained the most horrified look I've ever seen. "What! Are you serious!" he looked around frantically. "Henson!" he cried again. Why is he always crying to me? "I beg of you! Please tell your boyfriend to spare me!"

Our eyes twitched. "Boyfriend?" we both screeched. We both began to rant over each other about how that is not physically possible. My rant was along the lines of him being 'an insufferable twat' while Ludwig preached about how an 'annoying, sarcastic Hündin with no apparent figure' made me unqualified for even the smallest amount of consideration. Geeze, thanks Luddy.

He carried Rodger inside and took a look around the house. "Small on the inside too," Ludwig said dryly. "So where can I take him?"

I took a second to think. "You can use the living room," I replied. "It's the room to the left." Rodger gave me one last pleading look as he was carried away. "By the way, don't get blood on the carpet and keep the noise level on a minimum. I don't want the neighbors hearing."

"Ja, ja," Ludwig replied casually. As he made a move to close the door, Lovino squeeze pass us, saying since he had a mafia, he knew the best methods for getting information from people.

He sounded way too eager to me. I sighed. This was going to be a very long night. Well, at least I had the kitchen radio to cover some of the noise. "Annie." Elizaveta and Kiku came through the door. The girl carried his arms whereas the Asian carried his legs. "Where can we place him until he wakes up?"

I released another sigh. "My bedroom," I instructed. "Up the stairs, down the hall, and second on the right." I received 'thank you's from them both. With a small moment of silence, I dragged myself to the kitchen where Francis had found my food and was turning on the gas under a large pot.

"What are you doing?" I asked, taking a seat at the table. There was a blue radio on the table, a little bigger than the size of my head. I turned on the knob and flip through the channels, trying to find something worth listening to. An Andrew Sisters song was found and I settled for it reluctantly.

"Ma chère, I'm cooking dinner," he replied, going through my cabinets and taking out the canned food in my pantry.

"But haft of the stuff in this house is expired," I pointed out.

He made a 'tsk' sound to me. "Non, non," he said, shaking his head. "That does not matter. What does is how delicious my food shall taste."

There was a mumbling from the living room before the distinct sound of someone being beaten. Ouch. I ignored it and said, "So you can give me food poisoning and you wouldn't care."

"As long as it tastes good." I rolled my eyes and turned the music on louder. The song playing was about some guy named Johnny. I started to hum along with it.

Francis found my can opener and got to work openeing everything I have. "Ma chère, may I ask you a personal question?"

I raised an eyebrow. Francis thought something was personal? Ladies and Gentlemen, I believe the Frenchman has made a big step in improving his pervert problem. We shall all take a moment to give him a round of applause.

. . .

Moment over.

"Um sure," I replied, picking at the dirt under my nails. What could he possibly want to know?

He poured whatever the can's contents were into the pot. "You mentioned to me a man named Walter Alwin, non?" I nodded, dreading where he was going to take this. "Was he part of this whole conspiracy theory?"

I sighed. "Yes and no," I explained. "The Alwin family are a group of medical geniuses and are very rich. They had the strict belief that by finding you guys, they could use your healing genes to advance medical science. Walter, however, didn't actually believe that the HETAs existed."

The Frenchman gave me a confused look. "By HETAs, you mean us, oui?"

Oops! Slip of the tongue, though I figured by now they would be used to being called that. "Yeah," I confirmed, ignoring my previous thought.

The blond took a moment to think. "Je vois," he muttered. "They forced Walter into their little schemes, non?"

"He really had no choice," I said. "He was their only child." With that, the Frenchman and I settled into a mutual silence. The song was now switched to something from America. I couldn't identify it, though it sounded really catchy.

"That's a nice song," Elizaveta said, returning with Kiku. "Do you know what it's called?"

I shook my head. "No, this is the first time I heard this song."

The two took seats at the table. We were silent for a long moment. Something crashed in the background and I yelled for the two nations to keep it quiet. Kiku's dark eyes went wide. "That reminds me Annie-san," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out my Iron Cross. "I found this on the ground at Switzerland's house."

My eyes went wide and I carefully took it from him. "Thank you," I gasped, looking over it carefully. "I thought I lost this." I ran my finger over the cool surface. Gilbert's odd confession came to mind. The desire to know exactly what he was talking about over filled my being.

"When will Gilbert wake-up?" I asked.

"Soon," the Hungarian replied. "Since his country's gone, it always takes him a long time to wake-up after healing."

I switched the radio to another station. "Did it take him this long to wake up after the incident in Finland?" I asked absentmindedly.

It took her a moment to realize what I was talking about. She rested her chin on her hand, saying, "Well since he lost an arm and received third degree burns on the lower haft of his body, it took him a little over a week to wake-up." My face fell, causing her to quickly comfort, "Now, now Annie, it's not your fault."

I shrugged. "I know." Scooting out of my chair, I took the Iron Cross with me out of the room, telling them that I was going to get a chain for it. Once I was in the hallway, I silently groaned. A week? Excuse my impatience, but I couldn't wait that long!

Tracking up the stairs, I heard a tidbit from the interrogation. "I just saw her on the street," Rodger was saying. "And the car trunk was open so I slipped inside." Right. Keep telling yourself that.

The upstairs hall was dark and I found my bedroom in similar light. Rolling my eyes, I flicked the light on and saw Gilbert sleeping on my bed. Kiku and Elizaveta had just laid him on top. _"Do they want him to catch a cold?"_ I thought, irritated. I threw a throw blanket over him and went to my jewelry box.

I was not the girl to wear pretty gems every day, but my family and friends never seemed to understand that. There were plenty of necklaces to choose from, though I settled on a plain silver one. I sat in the bed as I strung the fragile, glass beads off of it and the Iron Cross on.

"Was zum. . ." A low voice moaned. I glance and saw Gilbert stirring into consciousness; His hand went to him head, as if he was oppressing a killer head ache. "Wo bin ich?" he mutter, red eye darting around the room.

Sighing, I stood and gained his attention. "You're going to have to speak English," I said.

The Prussian stared at me blankly before groaning. "Out of everyone . . ." he muttered. After a few seconds, he asked, "Where am I?"

"My house, London, England," I stated simply. His eyes went wide with shock. "Arthur went missing, so we-" CRASH! I paused and looked at the door. The sound came from down stairs. First, I simply thought that Ludwig and Lovino were disregarding my rules again, but then I heard unfamiliar voices.

They demanded surrender and Lovino replied in vulgar language. Kiku and the others joined them and Rodger's hopeful yell echoed across the house. "What's going on?" Gilbert asked, trying to sit up. There was a pained tone in his voice and his face looked weak.

"Stay here," I ordered, pushing him back down. "Do not make a move." Quickly, I clasped the Iron Cross around my neck and ran into the hallway. I softly closed the door behind me and inched towards the stairs.

A fight was definitely going on. Someone had turned the lights off and fists were being thrown in sheer darkness. The constant clang from Kiku's katana screeched against my ears. The occasional gunshot shattered them. Taking a deep breath, I climbed down the stairs and made out who was fighting.

It was the nations verses the Parker and Conner families. There were maybe twenty men storming the inside, wielding guns. There were a few thumping noises as people went down. A groan similar to Kiku's ended the noise. It was quickly followed by a loud thump and Kiku's limp arm falling into the hallway. "Is that all of them?" Someone asked, from the living room.

I paused before turning back up the stairs. They couldn't find Gilbert or me. Someone had to tell the others about this. "Well besides that damn Italian, there's still that Henson girl," Rodger said.

Another man laughed. "Yeah, but at least I got him with the poison. With his wounds, he'll die soon."

Shit. Lovino got away and was seriously injured. _"What poison are they talking about?_" I wondered. I started to move away faster before the curse of the squeaky floorboards attacked. A man stuck his head into the hall and saw me.

"There she is!" he called before firing his gun at me. Yelping, I turned and scrambled up the stairs.

I wasn't fast enough. Someone grabbed my leg and yanked me down. I fell, my broken nose barely avoiding the ground. My captor dragged me down the stairs as Rodger and some other men joined him in the hall. "Cowardly as always Henson," he taunted before kicking me in the stomach.

Grunting, I spat at his feet. I was obviously compromised. However, Gilbert wasn't. He still had a chance. "So where are you taking us?" I asked, loud enough for the nation to hear. "The Henson mansion?"

A second man knelt to my height, wielding a needle in his hand. I kicked at him until my legs were restrained. "Who said it was your mansion anymore?" Rodger asked just as the needle went into my arm.

I felt my whole world fade to black. The last I saw was a man carrying Francis over his shoulder. The nation had a strange dart in his neck.

* * *

><p><strong>Date Unknown<strong>

**Location Unknown**

"What the. . ." I muttered as I sat up. I was in a teenager's bedroom. It was of a nice size with a closet and make-up stand. On the mirror, I noticed a picture of Fanny Brice taped carelessly on the side. Overall, the room was a clean white, though there was a thin layer of dust on the bed stands.

I sat up on the bed I was laying on. This was all very familiar to me . . .

My room! This was my room at my family's mansion! How did I get here? It took me a second to remember. That's right, Rodger took me.

And the other nations.

"_Where are they?"_ I thought, jumping off the bed. I was alone. They were probably locked up in the basement. Great, now I'll have to break them out. Again. Seriously, I had to save their asses as much as they had to save mine. But first I had to break myself out of here.

First, I tried the door and with little luck. The knob wouldn't even turn for me._ "I don't remember ever having a lock,_" I thought grudgingly. Well, at least it was nice to know that I was an expected guest.

The window was next. On the opposite wall was an average sized window looking out to the green expanses and the distant lights of London. It was already fully nighttime. Try as I may, I couldn't lift it open. It was as though someone glued it to the sill. Scowling, I rammed my shoulder into it. I didn't even crack the glass.

I groaned and sat back on my bed. Great. I was stuck in my childhood room with a broken nose, wearing a British military uniform, with nothing to keep me entertained except old editions of _Vanity Fair_.

"Damnit!" I yelled, lying back on my bed. There was nothing I could do about any of it. Well, actually I could fix the clothing problem. I tracked over to my closet to find it filled with my old clothes.

A lot of it was too old or small for me, but I was eventually changing into long black slacks and a short sleeve white blouse. For a second, it bugged me to see the scars on my arms. _"Be proud of them,_" I told myself. "_You worked hard to earn them."_

Whether it was to show my national love or to cover my arms, I pulled the military jacket back on. I didn't button it shut. Instead, I pulled my Iron Cross to the front of my shirt. There, now I looked perfect.

Bored again, I took a seat back on the bed. For what felt like hours, I merely swung my legs back and forth and counted to a million in Italian. Every so often, the lights in my room flickered, telling me that time had passed. It wasn't until I reached 'mille e diciotto' did I notice something on my dresser.

I picked it up, and immediately knew what it was. It was the leather book I threw away. How did it get here? Did David fine it? I opened it to the first page and started to read it in both languages. The words seemed silly to me now, but nonetheless, I went on.

"'_They didn't age or die,'"_ it read. "'_And they bore hatred towards the human race. They believed them to be naive. During the night the monsters would enter the hearts of unknowing people and poison them into doing their bidding.'"_

"'_Once, there was a little boy who befriended a monsters appearing the same age as him. There were inseparable, considering each other to be like brothers. One day, though, a war came and the monster's hatred for humanity was renewed.'"_

"'_When the whole town was asleep, he would whisper commands into the villager's ears. All except his dear friend. He had neither the hate nor heart to possess him. However, the little boy-'" _

I didn't get the chance to finish. The door to my room was unlocked and open. I glanced up and dropped the book. Standing there before me was . . . how he could . . . isn't he . . .

"Are you surprised?" he asked.

I only stuttered, "Y-you're suppose t-to be d-dead."

* * *

><p><strong>MW<strong>: Yes, I am giving you all another cliffhanger!

**SEK**: Hey **MW**! **BFTL**'s waking!

**BFTL**:. . .hm,? What. . .what chapter is this?

**MW**: Chapter 16-

**BFTL**: CHAPTER 16? *causally walks away*

**MW**: . . . well, she seems okay.

**SEK**: Yup, totally normal. Remember to review!

**Funfacts and Translations**

"Scotland Yard" A police force located in London.

"A- in London" Didn't feel like coming up with a name. They did this in Uncle Tom's Cabin, so it's legal.

"Pauvre l'Angleterre," Poor England. French.

"Auf Geht's!" Let's go! German.

"I'm not some obsessed teenager bent on marrying an albino." That's right I'm making fun of myself.

"Je vous promets." I promise you. French.

"Fransexual." The joke was there and I couldn't resist.

"Omawari-san" Japanese title for a police man. Directly translates to "Officer, dear."

"Heilige scheiße" Holy Shit. German.

"Igen." Yes. Hungarian.

"Seeking comfort, I gave my imaginary monster the name 'Steve'." HetaOni reference. The monster has been nicknamed 'Steve' by fans."

"Riposa in pace." Rest in peace. Italian.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est?" What is this? French.

"Mindketten úgy viselkedik, mint éretlen gye-" You're both acting like immature chi-. Hungarian.

"Was zum Teufel!" What the hell! German.

"Hündin." Bitch. German.

"Je vois," I see.

"Was zum" What the. German.

"Wo bin ich?" Where am I? German?

"Fanny Brice." Popular American singer/performer during the 1920s-1930s.

"_Vanity Fair" _A magazine that featured the latest in fashion trends.

'"mille e diciotto" A thousand and eighteen. Italian.

**Next Chapter: **We find out who this zombie is. Meanwhile, we go back to Prussia and some of the other nations.

*****REVIEW SINCE REVIEWS MAKE A HAPPY AUTHOR AND A HAPPY AUTHOR WRITES LONGER CHAPTERS*****


	17. Prussia and His Awesome Singing Voice

**SEK**: . . .Thus, this chapter was proofread by me.

**MW** and **BFTL**: Zzzzzzzzzzz

**SEK**: WAKE-UP WOLF! YOU HAVE AN A/N TO GIVE!

**MW**: *grumbling* Fine. Geezes. Well peeps, what I have here is another chapter. All though not my best written, I love it because of all the delicious plot thickers.

**BFTL**: Is that even a word?

**MW**: But continuing on ward. Ladies and Gentlemen, I have a great announcement. Fan art has been made. *Applause* So everyone, I would love to rape- I mean –thank** OTAKU-KON **and **MoonSparrow** for their hard work. Even though I forgot to tell them this personally, they now have the option of giving me a prompt for the ending omakes and taking part in the one-shot contest. Whenever they feel like it, they can contact me somehow and tell me what they want.

**SEK**: And remember, if you would like to see the fanart yourselves, you may see the links in our profile.

**MW**: And I believe that's everything-

**BFTL**: Ahem!

**MW**: Oh right. In my associate **BlueFireTigerLion's** story "Of Kings and Pawns", she made a beautiful cameo of my dear OCs. So true to my ways, be kind and give her some support.

**BFTL**: That's right, cause Blue needs the support, right Blue? You said it Blu!

**MW**: No worry, she always talks to herself. There's 11 reviews left till we reach 100, so remember to review!

**Chapter Summary: **After a series of flashbacks, Lovino's injury brings to life a disturbing fact.

**Warnings:** Language, Blood, Gore, and Prussia's awesome singing voice.

**Disclaimer**: Look at the chapter, now back at me. Look at the chapter and back at me. Sadly, I don't own Hetalia. But you can support Hetalia by buying the first season of World Series, out this week.

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 17~<strong>

**Prussia and His Awesome Singing Voice of Awesomeness**

* * *

><p><strong>April 4, 1944<strong>

**The Henson Mansion**

Holy shit. Though out your whole life, you expect a few things to happen. You expect to face love, friendship, war, and death. Certain things like love and friendship are expect to end eventually. War fades away over time. But all three come back eventually. Death is permanent. Once you die, you don't come back to life. Yeah, some say there are ghost that haunt you and stuff, but they're still dead.

So I guess it was reasonable to say that I was frozen with shock at who was at the door. This person, I witnessed their death personally. I cried and fought against the un-sympathizers. When they died, I never thought that death was so cruel. They were only trying to protect me. And now they were alive. Freshly washed like a baby and smirking at my expression.

"I know," he replied curtly, leaning against the wall carelessly. "Or so they told me."

I stared for a long moment at him. He was so different from what I remember. His posture wasn't the refined way I knew it to be. His face did have his usual expression, but that was beside the point. I closed my eyes and took the longest breath of my life. "Walter," I said. "How are you still alive?"

Walter stared blankly at me. God, even his greased back hair was the same, though I did not know him to wear the blue turtle neck he sported now. "I was told not to tell you," he said.

I scowled. "Then what can you tell me?" My voice was edgy and I tried my best not to snap at him.

He pushed himself off the wall, saying, "I was told to tell you to come with me." He beckoned towards me with a finger, like a little child. I glared at him. It wasn't like I didn't trust him- okay that was the problem.

Twisting the ring on my finger, I thought my options through. I could try to run past him and escape, but no doubt there were guards down the halls. I could go with him and see how he was alive. But what if he was just going to kill me? No, Walter wouldn't do that . . . would he?

With reluctance, I stuffed the leather book in my breast pocket and followed him out the room. As expected, there were guards, though I didn't recognize any of them. These men were stoic and heavily armed. Vaguely, I recalled Rodger telling me that it wasn't my mansion anymore. "_So this is what David did,_" I thought grudgingly. I swear, I'm going to personally kill him. Then again, he might just bring himself back to life.

Walter motioned for me to follow him down the hall. _"But what am I thinking!"_ I wanted to smack myself. _"He isn't God! Walter can't just rise from the dead in three days!" _ I found the solution to the problem.

Like a little school girl, I innocently placed my hands behind my back. I sped up to the spot next to him and smiled brightly. "So you're Walter Nicholas Alwin?" I asked, battering my eyelashes for effect.

He looked down at me for a moment. "Of course," he replied. "Who else would I be?"

I rolled my eyes. "An impostor meant to freak me out in a form of psychological war-fare that Ivan is such a big fan of?"

Walter paused in his steps. "I am Walter," he said, almost monotone. He continued his walking.

"Then prove it." He paused at my dare and glared at me. His green eyes glared at me from behind rectangular glasses. Without another word, he pulled down the collar to his turtle neck. There were large, black, Frankenstein-like stitches in his skin, connecting part of his neck together.

I gasped, realizing that it came from Vladimir's brutal attack. I only received a few more seconds to gawk before he pushed the neck back up. "Come on," he ordered, knowing he won.

"_So it is him,_" I thought as I was lead further down the hallway. I sifted through the files in my brain, trying to figure out how. "_Arthur_," I realized. "_Arthur could have done it. He's healed me before. But . . ._"

I recalled the day Walter died. "_Magic can heal the body and bring his functions back to working," _he had explained. "_But no amount of magic can bring the human soul back to life. He'll just be a lifeless lump." _Well besides the 'lifeless lump' part, I'll say that this was fitting the bill pretty well.

Then again, Arthur could have meant something different. Maybe by 'lifeless lump', he was referring to the obvious change in personalities. Yeah, I'll just go with that, though that still leaves how Walter is still alive. Arthur could have brought him back by force or someone else who knows magic could. But who else on this freaking planet knows magic?

"We're here," Walter said, arriving at the last door on the hall. This was the door to my father's study. "Go in."

I stared at it for a second. "Who's inside?" I demanded.

The other sighed. "I truthfully have no idea. I was just told to bring you here."

"It's probably David," I grumbled, gripping the door handle. I pushed him open and saw the soft glow of the study. It was in perfect shape since I last saw it; nothing was different. My eyes traveled across the room till I reached the couch were Dad had always played chess with me. Sitting in one of those couches, chess board completely set-up, was my brother.

"Hey Kid," he greeted cheerfully. His hands were uncharacteristically folded on his lap and a white cast covered his left arm. When had he broken it? "Hey, you cut your hair again. Please, take a seat." The door behind me closed softly. Looks like I'm stuck with him. I eyed the seat across from him with disgust. He saw my look. "What? It's not poisonous."

Scowling I took a seat and folded my arms across my chest. David frowned at me. "Aren't you going to say hello?" he asked, an offended look on his face.

"Where are they?" I demanded, continuing to glare at him.

He shrugged. "That's not import-"

"Not important?" I jumped to my feet, nearly knocking the chess pieces over. "Says he who brought them here in the first place!"

My brother's blue eyes went wide. "Me? What in the world made you think I'm behind all this?"

I scoffed, "Everything."

David's face flashed through a pattern of emotions. Shock, disbelief, anger, and humor. In a way, it made we want to crack up laughing. But if I was too pissed off to even think about doing so. "I can understand why you would think that," he said steadily, trying to suppress all of his anger. "But I'm not the bad guy here."

"Really?" I clenched my fist. The disbelief in my voice was plain. My brother sighed and lifted his hands in the air. They were handcuffed together. I blinked. I still didn't believe him, but why were his hands cuffed together. Slowly, I asked, "Then who's the bad guy here?"

It was silent for a long moment. The door behind me opened and a humored voice said, "I believe bad guy is a derogatory term."

I turned and gaped at the newcomer. "You're behind this?" I asked.

* * *

><p><strong>April 4, 1944<strong>

**Annie's House**

Damn bastards lit the house on fire.

Prussia waited at the door, pressing his ear against the wood for any sign of what was going on. "So where are you taking us?" he heard Annie yelled. "The Henson mansion?" The muffled agreement and the departure were plain.

Of course, then came the distinct order of "burning the damn place down." Shit. So not awesome. Prussia leapt away from the door and searched the room quickly for his sword or gun. To his misfortune, he couldn't fine either of them. So un-awesome. The smoke started to pick-up and seep through the cracks under the door.

He needed to get out there. Fast. With no regard to the property value, the Prussian jumped through the window. He crashed into the ground with a thud. The nation had fallen into a dark alley between houses. "Shit," he muttered, sitting up stiffly. He could feel a bruise developing on his back.

Prussia scrambled to his feet and dashed out of the alley and into the street. The neighbors had crowded around the burning building, waiting for the fire department to arrive. They whispered and cried out to each other. The platinum blond stumbled into the crowd and mingled with the nearest man. "What happened?" he asked, trying to come off like a concerned citizen.

The man stared at him as if he's seen the devil. "What are you doing here?" He demanded. Prussia was confused until he spat, "Nazi."

Oh yeah, his German accent. How could the awesome him forgotten about that? "Nazi?" the nation repeated, painting an offended look on his face. "Me and my family had to escape the Third Reich when being albino became was a crime."

The man's frowned. "I'm sorry chap," he said, trying to ease the other's rising voice. "It's just politics now a day."

Prussia rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say. Now can you tell me what happened here?"

He shrugged. "No idea. Sofia down the street says that she saw some men leaving the house before it caught on fire." He looked at him with suspicion. "Why? Do you know Miss Henson?"

The nation shrugged. "Not really, just wondering." He walked away. Alright, nothing from there. The best thing for him to do was get to this 'Henson Mansion'. Where the hell was that? The first thing he needed though was a way to get to there.

Walking as far as he could from the commotion, Prussia spotted a parked car by the street corner. He grinned as he came upon to the driver's door. No one inside. Grinning, he raided his pockets for the metal wire he always carries with him. You know, just in case something like this happened. He stuck it into the bolt. After picking it around for a minute, the lock clicked open and he was free to go inside.

He climbed into the driver's seat and stuck the wire into the ignition. Under his breath, he softly sung, "In heaven, the French are cooks, the English are police officers-" he grinned when the engine hummed alive. "-The Germans are engineers, the Swiss are bankers, and Italians are lovers!"

Prussia turned off the brakes and drove the car down the road. _"Thank you stereotypes,"_ he thought happily. "_You are awesome. If you were a girl, I'll totally fuck you._" A weird thought over came him. _"But what if stereotypes were males? Aw well, the awesome me will still fuck you."_

Now that he had a car in his possession, the next thing for him to do was drive himself to the mansion. If only he knew where that was. A plan concocted in his mind. London was a city with how many citizens? Surly one of them knew where he had to go.

He drove down a few deserted streets, looking for anyone up and about at this hour. It was nearly midnight. After passing by the fire trucks, the nation spotted his first civilian. A man, limping slightly as he clutched his side in pain. "Hey you," Prussia called, slowing the car next to the person. "Do you know where the 'Henson mansion' is?"

"Like hell I know where it is!" The man with the distinct accent snapped back.

He gawked. "Romano?" he asked, squinting his eyes at the man. "Is that you?"

"Like hell it is!" Romano yanked the passenger's door open and climbed in. There was a developing red spot on his shirt and sweat drenched his skin and hair. The Italian bit his lip in unbearable pain.

The awesome one gave a sideward glance to him. "What happened?" he asked, driving the car away.

"We got ambushed," Romano muttered. He was in too much pain to do anything else. "The potato bastard interrogated this fucking douche bag who was in on that damn conspiracy and we got fucking ambushed."

Well that wasn't very awesome. "Do they have everyone?" Prussia asked.

"Well if they aren't with you, then they're captured."

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "So do you know where the 'Henson Mansion' is?"

"Si." Romano straighten in is seat with some effort. "Do you have a fucking plan?"

"Keseses~!" He laughed, smirking at the other's comment. "Not a fucking idea, the awesome me is just making this up as I go."

The Southern Half of Italy smacked his forehead. "Fucking yay."

* * *

><p><strong>April 4, 1944<strong>

**Henson Mansion**

The moment the words left my mouth, Rosa's triumphant smirk grew wider. "Only recently," she said, brushing a hand over my cheek. "I just inherited the duty." My head spun in circles. None of this made sense at all. How could beautiful, compassionate Rosa be the antagonist? It just wasn't possible.

Not possible.

She smiled warmly and took a seat at my father's old desk. "Why don't you take a seat?" she suggested. "We have quite a lot of talking to do."

Numbly, I took a seat at the couch across from David. "Sure Kid," he huffed, rolling his eyes. "Listen to the bad guy."

Rosa gave an extremely offended look. "Like I said before David, 'bad guy' is not the proper term." Her voice was crisp and proper like a scolding nun or lecturing professor. "I'm just merely- how would I describe this?" She took a long moment to think. All the while, I sat quietly with my hands folded neatly on my lap. "I'm just the ring leader of this circus."

I swallowed, trying to quench my dry thirst. "What is going on?" I asked. "How does this. . ."

The blond twirled her hair absentmindedly. "It really is a long, boring story Annie," she drawled. "And not much of it is pleasant."

David stomped his foot on the ground, trying to regain my attention. "Listen to me Kid," he urged, trying to steal my attention. "Whatever she tells you is not true."

Rosa pouted. "Really?" she sounded astonished. "You judge me so quickly David. You really must-"

I stood and both of their eyes landed on me. "How is Walter still alive?"

My stepsister tried to answer first. "A HETA by the name of Arthur Kirkland brought him back," she explained. "He was more than happy to oblige."

"You threatened his brother," David snapped, rising to his feet as well. His face was red with anger and his voice was rising violently. "And that was only after you stab him in the side!"

Between the two, as much as I hated to say it, I believed David the most. I couldn't help to remember when Alfred was suffering from Pearl Harbor. The caring, protective look that the nation's green eyes harbored burned my memory. Then, of course, there was his refusal to resurrect Walter for me.

Rosa sighed. "You're being destructive David," she said, a frown painting her face. She sighed again before calling, "Walter!"

The door opened and my ex-fiancé strutted in. "Yes ma'me," he saluted, bowing slightly. I guess at that moment, it occurred to me that he was completely submissive to her. The stern, yet cheerful doctor I knew before was gone- out of my grasp.

"Take David to the others," she ordered. "He's being rude."

Walter immediately grabbed David by his arms, restraining him behind his back. When he wasn't a mindless slave, he never had the strength to hold back the older man. Yet, there he was, containing him perfectly, even though my brother was failing his legs wildly.

"Get out of here Kid!" he screamed savagely. "Don't believe anything she says. Get out of here! Fuori di qui!" His screams echoed down the hall and rocked my ear drums even when they were long gone; the door safely closed.

We were both silent for a long moment. I stood, frozen in place as Rosa stared at the door. For the first time in a very long time, I was afraid for my brother. Were the going to kill him? Torture him? My heart punched my rib cage and my breathing was shallow. I had to stay calm. Completely clam.

"Come here Annie," Rosa ordered. She was gentle, smiling as she placed a large, leather book on the desk. "Pull up a chair as well."

I did as I was told, placing a leather chair in front of the desk. When I was seated, I saw that Rosa was admiring the book's contents. She brushed her white finger across the page. "They are handsome, aren't they?" she cooed, smirking at a particular picture.

I leaned over the desk and went wide-eyed. The book had printed sepia pictures of youthful men and women. Beneath each of their pictures was a neatly printed name. It wasn't until I saw Rosa admiring an image with the name 'Ludwig' under did I remember Emily Basil's book. I gasped, "How did you-"

"He's especially handsome," she overlapped, still gazing at Commander Grease Head. She flipped the page over to an image of Matthais. "So is he, though he needs to comb his hair." I didn't have the heart to tell her about their boyfriends. Rosa flipped over a few more pages before resting on the Vargas brothers. "Both you and David look much like these two."

My mouth was sealed shut. I wasn't going to say a thing. Dejectedly, Rosa pushed the book away from herself. "It's a shame though. They're all HETAs, so they have to die."

"They can't die," I growled, glaring at the open book in front of me. The smiling face of Feliciano mocked me.

She laughed cruelly. "I have that taken care of," she assured before standing gracefully. I wondered how. "But you sound as though you actually care Annie dear."

I leaned in my chair and crossed my arms. "I'd call it a change of heart," I spat unhappily.

"Annie, Annie." Rosa shook her head as she sat in front of me at the edge of the desk. "What about your mom? Didn't one of them kill her?" I opened my mouth, just to quickly close it. She looked at the window and sighed again. "Remember that day when mum and Patrick announced their engagement? And when we agreed that we didn't like each other's parent?"

"What is your point?" I asked impatiently.

She smiled. "There is a reason why I didn't like your dad. He was a bad man Annie. He betrayed the Fisher's trust by ordering David to kill James. He was plotting all this time to betray all the families and have David assumed his throne."

I rolled my eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."

For a second, she scowled deeply. But almost immediately she returned to her sweet mask. "Annie, it's all over now," she said gently. "I have control of everything now. Those men have corrupted this mission of ours with their greed for power. But now I have the power to restore everything to its rightful place. But I cannot do this alone. I need you Annie."

I stood abruptly and paced around the room. What the hell was she telling me? I could control this all? Everything? Rosa had good intentions- she always has. Why did I ever doubted her? Pacing, I bit my lip. "I know that it's a lot to take in," she said. "But just imagine. We could be living with peace at mind. Forever." I paused at the window and looked out. Still night. "Charles and I can raise Caroline and Edward in peace. You can marry Walter-"

"Why would I want to marry Walter?" I demanded, pausing in front of the window. I pressed my hand on the cold glass. I glanced downward and saw two cars and a motorcycle idling while three guards chatted excitedly. "He's nothing more than a mere skeleton now."

Rosa's glass reflection laughed. "Of course darling," she said. "Why I don't blame you at all. You do have the right to marry whoever you want."

I moved from the window and to the desk. "Anyone, huh?" I smiled, a plan forming in my mind. Okay, maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. "Anyone I love?"

"You have a lover?" my step sister asked, smile faltering. She gave a slight shrug. "Well that is expected," she said. "You've been kidnapped by how many men? One of them ought to have won your heart."

I shrugged. "He's different," I said. "Special."

Rosa brought the book closer to herself. "He's a HETA, right?" she said, not noticing me gripping a stapler in my hand. She went back a page and pointed Ludwig's picture at me. "It's him, isn't it? Stern people seem to be your type."

Lord kill me. Snarling, I struck Rosa's head with the stapler. A small gash bled on her forehead and she grabbed the injured spot painfully. I grabbed the book and frowned. "Stop pairing me with Ludwig!" I said testily, before dashing shoulder first through the window.

I broke through easily and fell with the shatter glass. I was only falling from the second floor up so I didn't hurt myself badly. It also helped that I landed on the largest guard. Feeling my leg break, I struggled to my feet and slammed the book into each of the other guard's necks and heads.

Before they could get up, I stuffed my makeshift weapon down my shirt and stiffly climbed on to the motorcycle. The engine was already ignited, so all I had to do was ride as fast as I could out of here.

The tires screeched as I turned a sharp corner and nicked the gates as they closed shut. I barely made it out. Bullets hit the ground around me as I drove off. I had to find Gilbert and the other nations.

I had to get out of there.

* * *

><p><strong>April 4, 1944<strong>

**Location Unknown**

There are certain sounds Germany likes to wake-up to. These include his dogs playing, the content sigh of a lovely lady, and Italy's peaceful snoring. With this in mind, Germany was not particularly happy when he heard a screaming voice yell, "Let me go! You don't have to listen to her, Walter! You have a freewill- use it!"

Groaning, the nation sat-up and rubbed his head. Ouch. What happened? He was beating the crap out of that Rodger guy when they were ambushed. He grimaced, touching a painful spot on his head. Looking at his hand, he saw blood on his hand. That's right; someone hit him with the butt of a gun, knocking him out cold. And that someone had taken the time to hand cuff his hands in front of him. Great.

He rubbed the blood between his fingers. This was wrong; his wound should have healed by now. Then again, he may have woken-up only half way through healing. Great. Groaning, Germany rubbed the back of his neck the best he could and felt something odd. There was a dart in his neck. He pulled it out and looked at it. What the hell?

The yelling voice was still going, though it was slowly growing louder and louder. That meant that the screamer was going to join him soon. That would be fine if he knew where he was.

The room he was in damp and nearly pitch black. The only light came from a window close to the ceiling, letting in only a puddle of moonshine. All around him were lumps that we presumed to be still sleeping nations. He counted the lumps. There were only four.

He was missing someone.

At last, the voice was as close as it was going to get. The door, at the top of the stairs across from the nation, slammed open and the silhouette of a man appeared. He threw the yelling man down the stairs before closing the door shut again. "_Verdammt_," Germany swore. "_That might have been the only chance for escape._"

The newcomer sat-up. His hands were also handcuffed in front of him, though there was a cast on his arm. "Dannazione," he muttered, sitting up. "Don't they know how to treat the injured?" He either ignored or didn't notice Germany as he stood and marched over to one of the lumps. "Wake-up Artie," he ordered, lightly nudging a lump.

Artie? Does he mean. . .

Britain groaned as he sat up stiffly. "Great you're back," he muttered unhappily. "And just when I was getting some sleep. . ." He yawned again and looked around. "Damn, they captured more of us?"

The other sat next to him and nodded eagerly. The nation sighed. "Stupid gits." He sighed again before asking, "Alright David, what happened this time?"

This time David sighed. "Well I was shoved into the office, found out that they captured the Kid, and then got taken away just as it was starting to get good."

"So is Rosa trying to get Annie to join her?" The blond asked, thick eyebrows knitting together.

The human nodded. "Basically," he said. "We have a 50/50 chance of her staying on our-"

"What the ficken is going on?" Germany demanded. The other lumps started to stir, groaning and muttering about sore limps and still injured bodies.

David and Britain paused and looked at him, before looking back at each other. They challenged the other to explain. Country won. David scooted closer to the German. "Well we aren't quite sure of that ourselves," he explained, entering the pool of moonlight. He looked a lot like Annie (who in return looked a lot like Romano). "I suggest we all gather around and figure it all out together."

They all obliged, sitting in a small circle. Hungary and France found a strange comfort in seeing them all together like this. Especially Britain, though in the light, his state was not so well. He was covered with bruises and cuts- the two most prominent ones being a black eye and split lip. David was in a similar state. Both men's shirt sleeves were ripped off to reveal inflamed skin. Tiny red spots dotted their upper arms.

For a second, Japan stared in the most unthoughtful way. It looked as though someone had been injecting something into the both of them. Germany wasn't concerned about either of them. Both Prussia and Romano were missing.

Not that he cared. The Italian was a pain in his ass and would be acting irrationally if he were here with them. And his bruder is probably lazing about in some pub drinking beer. Prussia would be unaware of the situation he was in now.

"It's nice to see that you're okay L'Angleterre," France cooed, leaning into the Brit's shoulder. "We were all so very worried about you." For once, he wasn't told to 'piss off' somewhere. The Brit seemed almost too distracted to do anything about him.

"Yes, but where are we?" Hungary asked, doing her best to smile. "What happened?" She held up her handcuffed hand and motioned to David. "Who is that and why are we bound?"

Said man smile broadly and leaned into her. "David Veneto Henson," he introduced flirtatiously. Giving her cheek a light kiss, he added, "Though a beauty like you can use my real surname: Henson."

The girl growled and kicked him away. Flirting? Not at a time like this. Germany, however, shot a glare at him. "Henson?" he asked. "As in-"

"As in 'you are acquaintances with my sister'? Then yes." David rolled his eyes at him. "And I remember you," he said dryly. "You were that 'Commander Ludwig' fellow. Thanks for ruining her big day. It was absolutely splendid."

He frowned. "Great, another sarcastic one," the nation huffed. "Does it run in your family or am I just lucky?"

"Lucky." The brunette smirked and returned his glare. "Only since-"

"Quiet gits," Britain hissed. "We don't have time to argue."

David pouted. "Ah, come on Artie," he whined, completely dropping the hate-filled look. "I had a really good come back there."

The other snapped, "How many times do I have to tell you? Don't call me Artie! It's Arthur!"

The other sighed. "But Arthur sounds way too British for my taste."

"And you have a problem with being British?" He demanded, spitting his words into his opponent's face.

David was blunt. "Yes."

"Britain-san, Henson-san." Japan interjected, seeking to stop the fight. "As was said before, right now is not the time to be fighting. We must discover a way out of here."

France nodded, nudging his friend back into his spot. "Which brings us, mes amies, to Hungary's previous question: 'Where are we exactly?'"

"The basement to the Henson mansion," Britain informed. "This is- apparently -where they keep their prisoners."

"But it's not my mansion anymore," David said. His voice was sad and wistful as he leaned his head on Hungary's shoulder. "Those damn Parkers are in control of it now."

The Hungarian shrugged him away. "But how did any of this happen?" she asked again.

All eyes traveled to Britain, who looked at David. "Why do I have to tell it Artie?" he whined, desperate to get out of the spotlight. "You know everything as well."

Green eyes twitched at the nickname. He did his best to tame his temper. "But you have the full story," he growled. "You'll be more suited to do so."

To every one's frustration, the human continued to deny his qualifications. He was ranting on and on about how his point of view was biased on many standards and forms. Multiple times, Germany found himself wishing Annie- the partially sane one -was there instead of him. Eventually, Hungary ran a finger down his cheek. "Can't you tell it to us?" she cooed suggestively. "Surly a brave man like you can do something as simple as that."

David's demeanor changed instantly. "It's fine," he said, beaming a smile. His whole aura seemed to sparkle. "I can tell it." Everyone gave mental sighs of relief. "This all started after the wedding was crashed. . ."

* * *

><p><strong>March 31, 1944<strong>

**Ipswich, East Coast of Britain**

David nodded at James, stuffing the business card into his pocket. "No telling anyone about this card," he ordered, seeing the Parkers' cars draw nearer. "Got it?"

The cherry-blond nodded. "Got it." The two men watched at nicely dressed men exited the cars. All of their suits were out of place and they looked exhausted. Almost immediately, they spread out, picking at each little detail. The Italian watched a group of them swarm his father's body. He protectively clutched the leather book closer to his chest. Damn bastards. "What's she doing here?" James asked, pointing at Rosa. She was in pristine condition; her pink dress clinging to her beautifully. "She always hides behind others."

His friend glared at his stepsister. Both of them had to agree that her pretty face was nothing more than a mask to hide her ugly self. "No idea," he muttered. "But I'm going to find out."

He painted a thin smile on his face and marched up to her. "Rosa!" he called happily, holding out his one good arm to her. "What in the world is my sorellastra doing here?"

Rosa smiled warmly and accepted his hug. "I just want to see if Annie is here," she said, kissing his cheek affectionately. She broke away and looked sadly at the scene. "Is she?"

David shook his head. "Luckily no." He paused and motioned to the car and his father. "But Dad and Walter are."

"They're dead?" She gasped, placing her hand over her mouth. The brother barely caught her when her knees collapsed. "How could they be?"

He held her and brushed her silk hair. "I'm sorry," he cooed, hushing her in English and Italian. "I'm so sorry." They embraced for a long time. All the while, David wished for it to be over. "_She's faking it,"_ David thought darkly. "_Only faking it._"

They were still for a long time. "Miss Parker," A Parker man jogged up to them. There was a little blood on his hands and a panicked look on his face. "Mr. Henson-"

"Rossi," David growled, separating from the blond. Rosa smiled warmly at him.

He ignored him and continued. "We were searching the contents of the late Patrick Henson's pockets," he said. "And we found this in his pocket." He outstretched his hand and relieved a crumbled piece of paper.

"Give me that," the son snarled, taking the paper from him. In his mind, he cursed the Parker's name. "_They searched his body,"_ he thought angrily. "_Those bastards."_ He unfolded the paper. It was small, with only two words printed on the underside. "'Call him,'" he read before passing the paper the Rosa. "What does that mean?"

The woman shrugged. "I don't know." She shot him a knowing look. "Are you sure Patrick didn't mention this to you before?"

As David confirmed it again, a few shouts went out from the far side of the cliff. James ran to the commotion, drawing his gun as the two siblings watched from a distance. There was a scuffle- three against one. It went on for a minute until the loner fell to the ground. Rodger picked the man off the ground and carried him over to the bosses, James trailing behind him.

"This guy was hiding by the cliff," Rodger reported. "No doubt he was watching the whole fight occur." David looked down at the man's face and looked back up at James's concern one. This was bad.

Rosa tipped the hostage's face towards her. "I remember you," she said sweetly. "You're a friend of Annie's: Arthur Kirkland."

Britain's eyes glared up at her from behind his blond fridge. "Yes, that's right," he replied.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, not letting her facade falter. David and James shivered. He didn't answer. She sighed. "David here tells me that you can use magic." His response was a glare to said human. The fact, sadly was true. David did have to explain to her what triggered her mother's stroke.

Rodger kicked his back and pressed the nation's chest to the ground. "Answer her," he barked, digging his heel between his ribs.

Rosa frowned. "He doesn't have to," she said. "It goes without saying." They were silent for a long moment. She was thinking about how to turn this to her advantage. David was formulating a way out of this. He didn't very much like the Brit, but he had to finish what his father started. He had to.

"I would like you to help me with something Mister Kirkland," the blond said at last. "Can you come here with me?" She briskly walked over to the abandoned car, Rodger dragging the nation after her. Hesitantly, David and James followed.

When they arrived at the car, she spent a minute regarding the backseat coldly. Walter's corpse was still lying in the puddle of his own blood. Unlike the girl, the men had the urge to barf. "Bring him back to life," Rosa ordered.

Britain glared at her. "No." Normally, he would have added a few curse words, but she was a woman and he couldn't be rude to her. Even if she was an evil bitch. "I refuse."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why not?" Again, the nation didn't answer. Rosa shifted her attention to her step-brother. Her honey-sweet smile never faltered as she asked, "David dear, do you know anything about Mr. Kirkland I should be aware about?"

He looked at her. How did she know that he researched his family to discover Alfred F. Jones of America? She had to have people on the inside. So that meant that she knew about Alfred as well. "_She's testing my loyalty,"_ he realized. A sour taste overcame his mouth. His options were limited. It pained him to answer her: "He has a brother in America named Alfred Jones."

Britain gave him the most hatred filled look David had ever seen. Guilt washed over him. No, he should have just let her suspect him. Anything to stop that look.

Annie gave him that look so often.

"Alfred huh?" Rosa thought for a second. "So if you don't do as I say, you wouldn't be seeing this Alfred any time soon."

The blond shook his head. "No," he snarled. "Bringing someone back to life would-"

Rodger pulled out a switch blade and dug it into his side. "Say no again and Alfred gets that tenfold," he growled. David made to lung at him, but James grabbed his arm and shook his head. Now was not the time to lose your temper.

All around was silence. The nation panted and bore through the pain. They waited for his answer. "Fine," he spat at last. "Just don't blame me when the git isn't how he should be."

David watched in awe. Under Rodger's eagle eye, Britain pulled the body from the car and drew a magic circle in blood beneath him. From an old leather book living in his coat pocket, he chanted a Latin spell. All the men, Parker and Henson, watched as the circle illuminated itself and particles of magic floated in the air around them. Walter's body regained a healthily glow and his chest heaved up and down with steady breaths.

"There," Britain gasped, seeking much needed oxygen. He was close to fainting. That spell required too much power- power he didn't necessarily have. "Enjoy you're lifeless lump."

Rosa lifted her skirt and walked into the circle. She bent down to Walter and whispered something into his ear. She sung him into full conciseness, calling for him to sit-up. "That will not be a problem," she said, bringing him to his feet.

Walter looked around, confuse. His green eyes perceived everything and nothing at the same time. It was if he was waking up to find himself in a different body. Rosa led him to the car. "You wouldn't mind if Mr. Kirkland took residence at your house, do you David?" she asked.

Said man trotted to her side. "Not at all." When they were away from the other men, he whispered harshly, "What are you planning Rosa?"

She gave him an Innocent smile. "Whatever do you mean David dear?"

He roughly grabbed her arm. "Everything," he snapped. "Why are you doing all of this? What are you planning?"

Her thin lips pressed together in a frown. "I'd be careful if I were you David," she warned. "People are beginning to question you and your father. But since he's dead, all families' eyes are on you. I'd tread carefully. Very carefully." She shrugged his hand away and led Walter to the car.

David stood in his spot, clenching his fist. Damn her. Damn them all.

* * *

><p><strong>April 1, 1944<strong>

**Outside A-, London**

"Are you sure this is the place?" David asked, looking up at the brick building before him. After locking Britain in his basement, David had asked James to trace the number on Arthur Kirkland's card. The results had headed this building. There was, of course, the question on whether or not it would be smart for them to check the place so soon. But they were already on the watch list. It was either now or never.

James nodded. "Yes." He gave him a large grin. "Ready to steal some one's identity?"

He smiled and flicked the cuffs of his suit. "Of course." They marched inside. The lobby was neat with only one door leading further inside. At the desk was a mild aged woman, concentration aimed at a large file. He put on a goofy smile and skipped over to the desk. "Ciao Signorina Basil," he greeted, reading the name from the plac on the surface. David did his best to mimic Feliciano's voice.

Emily Basil looked up at him and smiled. "Hello Feli," she greeted pleasantly. She leaned into the desk, emphasizing her chest. "I haven't seen you or your brother in a very long time." She didn't know the difference.

His heart dropped. Brother? Feliciano did mention something about him . . . "He's with a cute girl right now," he replied, hoping she fell for it.

She did. "That's sad," she said with a pout. Giving a sigh, Emily returned to business. "So what are you doing here? Mr. Kirkland hasn't called in for work yet." She eyed his cast. "And what happened to your arm?"

"I tripped," David replied. Noticing James fidget at his side, he hurried his pace. "And Arthur is sick and told me to bring him a file he needs to work on."

"Okay, go right ahead." She pushed her chair back and opened the door behind him. Both of the men started to go inside. "But wait. Who is you're companion?"

They paused. "I'm Commander Ludwig," James introduced, a German accent impeccable. His friend resisted a snicker. Genius.

Emily sighed. "So that's your boyfriend," she mourned wistfully. As she turned her attention to retrieving a book from the desk drawer, the friends exchanged glances. Oh. My. God. Boyfriend? The book landed on the desk with a loud thud. "Let me look him up first."

David: "Look him up?"

She nodded. "It's policy. You know that." Both men noticed that the book had pictures on the inside. It was a security measure. One that would sniff James out.

"That's alright," James said hastily, stepping away from the door. "I'm quite sure Feli can handle this by himself."

Emily returned to her work without a second glance. "Fine by me."

Now alone, David entered through the door and walked down the hall. He only paused when he came upon a door with Arthur Kirkland's name on it. "_I guess that's his office,"_ he thought, turning the door knob. The inside was clean and organized. He closed the door behind himself and started his espionage.

He wasn't supposed to be looking for anything in particular. James and him both agreed to take only what would be of use to them. But David found himself searching the nation's desk for a contact book. He needed to contact the other HETAs and persuade them to come rescue Arthur.

If things were simple, he would have just given Alfred Jones a call. But he was positive that Rosa had that guy under surveillance.

David slammed a drawer shut. Nothing. Not a single number. He groaned and looked at the items on the desk's surface top. There were a few pictures, many of them very old. The most recent one was with him and a handsome blond. The stranger had an arm around his waist and outstretched a rose to the photographer. Meanwhile, Arthur was scowling in embarrassment.

The other was of a much younger Brit holding a young child in his arms. This picture was painted and the colors were faded. David held the frame in his hands, scrutinizing the image. It reminded the man of his own picture.

He smiled and drew a folded piece of paper from his pocket. He hadn't looked at this picture for a very long time. Not since that incident with Commander Honda. Unfolding it now, the image of his little sister and mother greeted him. "Miss you Mom," he muttered, kissing the image before folding it back again.

BANG~!

"Holy shit! Run!" David jumped from the desk. That was James. What was going on? The sounds of a gun fight drew closer to him. Emily Basil screamed and a sickening thud echoed down the hallways. The Italian readied himself for a fight- bending his legs and going for a gun that wasn't there. He cursed aloud. That was right; he didn't bring a gun since he didn't believe Feliciano would.

After a few more gun shots, the office door slammed open. The Irish man ran inside and quickly slammed it shut. "They followed us," he panted, locking the door and leaning his weight against it. A horrified look spread across his face. "It's over."

David bit his lip. "Not yet," he said. Multiple men started to bang against the door. It wasn't going to hold for long. Quickly, he searched the room, trying to formulate a plan. His eyes rested on an antique sword on the wall. "I have an idea. You have to do everything I tell you to."

Out of everyone in the world, James trusted David the most. The eccentric man- when their lives weren't in danger -was always a bright ray of sunshine. He would always crack lame jokes and pull childish practical jokes. David's loyalty was also impeccable. Whenever he found himself in a bind, the man was there to help him- rain or shine.

The least he could do was trust him now.

Following his instructions, James unlocked the door and jumped away. He pulled out his gun and started firing, standing in front of the desk. The enemy occupied, David reached for the antique sword and drew it from its sheath.

He turned and took cover at the desk. "I'm going to knock it over now," he said.

James fired a few more shots. "Go for it. I'm ready."

Following the plan, David pushed the desk over for more protection, but unlike the plan, James didn't climb over it and join him. Instead, a bullet lodged itself in the cherry-blonde's stomach. He gasped and collapsed to the ground. The desk, consequently, landed onto of him. His friend didn't realize it until he cried out in pain.

"James!" David yelled, peeking over the desk. He quickly had to duck again to avoid a shower of bullets. Don't they ever run out of ammo?

James groaned and lifted his face off the ground. "Go on with the plan!" he grunted, feeling his own blood soak his shirt. "Save yourself!"

David leaned against the desk. Tears fell from his eyes. Not his best friend. First Annie, then his Dad, and now James. He wasn't going to go through with the plan. He was going to kill Rosa Parker if it's the last thing he ever did. He looked at the sword. "_The Kid will no doubt see this,_" he thought, pressing the blade into his thumb. It blood drew easily.

Remembering the message his Dad left, he painted 'call him' on the metal. He took one last, long breath. Here he goes. "I surrender!" David shouted. "I give-up!"

The gun fire ceased, giving James enough time to bellow, "Idiot! Run for it!" He was ignored.

Rodger took a step forward. Of course he'll be here- he's everywhere. Like oxygen. And a ninja. An oxygen ninja? "Stand and hold your hands where we can see them," he ordered. A smirk played across his fair skin.

David stood, dropping the sword to the ground. Two men came forward and roughly held him down. He screamed in pain. "Watch the arm," he snapped, quiet sure he broke it again.

"David you idiot," James growled, watching them carry his friend away. He stretched out an arm, as if to catch him before he goes. He could feel his life fading away slowly. Never in his life had he felt so warm and yet so sad at the same time. "I thought you . . ." The men rummaged through the room some more, knocking over cabinets and bookshelves into him.

His whole body was covered, save for his arm. David couldn't hear him now. But his arm was free. As he died, he tried to write out his message.

'David' was the only thing written.

'David you are a fucking idiot' is what he wanted to say.

Rodger observed the room. What were the two traitors looking for? He sighed and called the raid off. At least they got a book from that receptionist's desk. It was filled with names and pictures, so it might be useful. "Let's go before the police get here," he ordered, rallying his men out of the room.

He started to walk away, but spotted a sword lying abandoned on the ground. Smiling, Rodger picked it up and stabbed it into the top of the pile. Just like an Excalibur.

He left without another thought.

* * *

><p><strong>April 1, 1944<strong>

**Basement**

"Watch the arm!" David yelled as he landed with a thud at the bottom of the stairs. Walter, seemingly a cold shell of his former self, just closed the door behind him. He took a deep breath. James was dead. It was up to him now to be the hero. "_Damn, I sound American," _he thought sourly.

"What are you doing here?" An annoyed Arthur demanded, looming over the other man. His hands were at his hips and he looked very cross. "Here to take more of my blood?"

Like a little child, David crossed his legs. "Blood?" he asked, noticing for the first time the tear in the Brit's sleeve. "They're taking your blood?"

The blond stomped his foot. "Answer my question first!" The human sighed. This was going to take a lot of convincing. He told of his father's plan, his adventures raiding his office (which did not fly well with the Brit) and how he ended up here. "So basically you're a good guy pretending to be a villain for the sake of your sister?" Arthur asked at the end, more confused than when he first started.

"Basically." They were silent for a long moment. "I propose a truce," David suggested hopefully. He prayed that he wasn't acting to fast. If he was going to win this, he was going to need the nation's help.

Arthur regarded him carefully. "Why should I?" he asked. "We've been nothing but enemies for how long?"

"Three years-" the blond glared at him. "-But think about it this way: The enemy of my enemy is my best friend."

For once, the British man smiled. He extended an arm and helped David to his feet. "Deal." For a while, their discourse was sharing information about their enemy. Luckily, no one interrupted them during that time.

"Can I ask you something?" Arthur asked. He pointed to the corner closest to the stairs. "That man there has been over there since I got here. He's hasn't acknowledged my presence nor eat any of the food given. Who is he?"

David approached the man, looking over his body closely. He wore black clothes that were old and torn. Mud brown hair stick to his scalp and a black cloak was wrapped close to his body. "They took blood from him as well," Arthur added, noticing the confused expression on the human's face.

The stranger's eyes shot at them. They were a cold, icy blue that seemed to look straight into their souls. "I don't know," David answer truthfully. "I have never seen him before in my life."

Later, they came and took blood from all three of them—even David. Something was injected into the blonde's arm, making him feel sick and weak. Besides that, it had no effect. Neither of them could figure out what it was.

Multiple times, David silently prayed for him not to have made a mistake.

* * *

><p><strong>April 4, 1944<strong>

**The Basement**

". . . and that, il mio tesoro, is how this came to be." They were silent. That was. . . interesting. David leaned against Hungary's shoulder happily. He was enjoying this a little too much. He hummed lightly to himself. "So any questions?"

"Two," Germany said, still glaring at the brother. "Annie has no idea about your whole plan?" He nodded. The nation grinned coldly. His respect for the human's dad rose greatly. That took years of planning. It was a shame though that such an idiot was left to finish the job. "And is that stranger you mentioned still here?"

"Yup." David pointed to the corner. "He hasn't moved a single inch."

All their eyes traveled to the corner. In the dim light, they were barely able to make out his body. But his blue eyes shine brightly through the dark. "Sacre bleu!" France swore, jumping back a few feet. "I haven't seen eyes like that in decades!"

"You mustn't be so rude France-san," Japan softly scold. The Asian scooted a few inches closer to the stranger. "Would you like to join us?" he asked, extending a hand towards him. He shook his head.

Arthur sighed. "Give it a rest Japan. He wouldn't come out for anyone."

David blinked. "Which that reminds me. I have a question to ask." They all looked at him. "Why are you guys calling each other country names? I mean, if you've lived for as long as I know you have, I would have expected better nicknames."

The countries looked at each other and smacked their foreheads. This was going to take a lot of explaining.

* * *

><p><strong>April 5, 1944<strong>

**Outskirts of London**

I drove with one thought on my mind: To keep going forward. I couldn't stop, not even to ponder what had happened. If I did, then I would no doubt betray myself. _"Rosa is a good girl,_" a small voice in my head whispered. "_Why did you do that? She is the good guy!_" As it bounced off the walls of my skull, I concentrated on getting as far away as possible.

It was a little after midnight. Adrenaline rushed through my veins and I expected someone to start firing at me. Of course, no one did. My paranoia only made my head more muddled. My leg burned and I felt the broken bone tear through my muscle and skin. But I couldn't stop; I had to keep moving forward. No stopping. Stopping meant my life.

In the distance, I saw a bright orange glow. I was still miles away from London; what could it be? As I got closer, I realized that it was a burning car. Next to the car were Gilbert and Lovino, though the Italian was lying on the ground, in obvious pain. I screeched the motorcycle to a stop. "What are you two doing here?" I demanded, trying to get off the bike without hurting my leg even more.

Gilbert looked at be in a good condition. "The awesome me is saving your ass," he proclaimed. He watched me struggle a bit more before just lifting me off the bike. He placed me right next to Lovino. His hand clutched his side as blood slowly seeped between his fingers. "Where are West and the others?"

"Still at the mansion," I grunted. I reached under me shirt (causing Gilbert to make a pervert comment I'll rather leave out) and pulled out Emily's book. "I got this back though." The Prussian took the book from me and shifted through the pages. I asked, "Why is that car on fire?"

The reply came from Lovino. "Damn bastard was driving too fast," he growled, trying to not cry. "The damn engine fucking overheated and burst into flames." He shot a glare to the driver.

He shrugged and handed the book back to me. "In heaven, the Germans are engineers," he said. "Not drivers." I'm going to pretend I understand that reference.

I gave the Italian a wary look. "Shouldn't he have healed by now?" I asked.

Gilbert took a seat right next to me, twirling a metal wire in his hand. "Ja, it's been a few hours," He confirmed. "But for some reason he isn't healing."

I resisted the urge to smack him as I screeched, "A few hours! He's lost way to much blood then! We have to close the wound!"

The nation gave me a look that read 'you got to be kidding me'. "Says who?" he demanded.

Rolling onto my stomach, I crawled closer to the Italian. He was muttering something about how I was 'wasting my damn time.' "I'm a nurse," I said, prying Lovino's hands from his stomach. "I know what I'm doing."

I expected more resistance. Instead, Gilbert sighed. "Watch over me Fritz," he muttered before jumping to his feet. He smiled broadly at me and practically yelled, "What do you need?"

I started to peel Lovino's shirt away. "A needle and some thread." The shirt was drenched in blood and revealed a deep bullet wound. No doubt the bullet was still in there. "And a knife please."

The nation looked down at me. He reached into his pocket and threw me a Swiss army knife. "I have a needle, but no thread."

Unfolding the knife, I gave him an odd look. "How can you have a needle, but no thread?"

"It's from a dart." He handed said object to me. "It was stuck in Romano's neck."

I scrutinized it, turning it in my hand. Wait a second. . .

_Another man laughed. "Yeah, but at least I got him with the poison. With his wounds, he'll die soon."_

_I felt my whole world fade to black. The last I saw was a man carrying Francis over his shoulder. The nation had a strange dart in his neck._

"_They can't die," I growled, glaring at the open book in front of me. _

_She laughed cruelly in return. "I have that taken care of," Rosa assured._

It all pieced together in my head. "That bitch!" I yelled, shoving the dart into my pocket. Both of them gave me confused looks. "The dart was filled with a poison," I explained, panic rising in my voice. "I think it stops your healing ability."

Both of them cursed. "So what now?" Gilbert asked, taking deep breaths and occasionally muttering something to Fritz. "Are we just going to let him die?"

"No," I took the knife in hand. "Gilbert, I want you to find a spare piece of metal and heat it in the flames." As he rushed to do so, I leaned into Lovino. "You're going to be fine," I assured.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't fucking lie," he snapped. Even near death, he still had a beautiful vocabulary.

I hushed his and rubbed his hand in comfort. "What I'm about to do will be really painful and really dangerous," I said. "But it'll hold you over until we can get you to a hospital. Alright?"

"Fuck it," he muttered as Gilbert declared his success.

"Alright take it out of the fire and when I say so, place it on the wound." I looked at Lovino. "I want you to listen to only my voice, understand?" I picked up the knife and stabbed it into his wound. "I learned a bit of medical history from Walter. He taught me about a technique called cauterization." I made the bullet hole bigger and stuck two fingers in. Lovino was screaming in pain. "It's basically where someone uses a hot object to cause the blood to clot." I pulled out the bullet.

Lovino screamed, "Fuck! Fucking Talk about something that's fucking happy or just shut you fucking mouth the hell up!"

I ignored him. "Gilbert, now." The Prussian had wrapped his metal wire around the metal and lowered onto the wound. Lovino started to scream again. I continued to ramble, "And this is a very risky procedure because-"

My assistant told me to shut-up. "You're terrible at comforting," he declared. "Let the awesome me do this." The platinum blond cleared his throat and started to sing. Freaking sing: "Draw a circle, there's the Earth! Draw a circle, there's the Earth! Draw a circle, there's the Earth!" He took a deep breath and Lovino groaned. "I am Hetalia! Ah, a fabulous world, that can be seen with a swipe of a paintbrush. Let's have a to-!"

"Shut-up!" Lovino yelled, practically done with his make-shift surgery. I gave him an odd look. What the hell was that? We removed the metal and Lovino ceased his screaming. He was crying and panting, glaring at us evilly. "Why the fuck are you singing THAT song?" he demanded as I checked his wounded. It looked okay, though he was going to have a nasty scar on his abs forever. But he was a nation, so maybe he'll heal.

Gilbert shrugged. "What? It's catchy!" He defended. He glanced back at the still burning car. The fire illuminated the determined look on his face. It was the most serious I've ever seen him. "We're nations," he said. "We can't go to a normal hospital."

He lifted the motorcycle off the ground. "Where can we go then?" I asked.

"China." The kick-stand down, he picked me off the ground and placed me back on. "That guy knows medicine inside and out," he said, gently picking an exhausted Lovino in his arms. "He'll help him."

"Where would he be?" I demanded. "Last I check, he was having tea with the King."

"Then to the king we go." In the end, we somehow managed to fit three people on a motorcycle. Gilbert drove, Lovino slept, and I sat in the back; preventing the injured one from falling off.

When we entered London, we were arrested for driving erratically.

Like the Italian's Nonno said (sung?), "In heaven, the police are British."

* * *

><p><strong>April 5, 1944<strong>

**Britain's House**

"Aw, dude this sucks," America moaned, flopping onto the nearest couch. It had been a very long day. When they had reached Buckingham palace, they were forced to go through an hour long security check. Then they realized that they left Canada back at the military base. So they spent another hour waiting for Russia to return with their missing nation. Canada had to go through an hour long security check of his own before they had dinner with King George.

When they were able to actually talk about how Britain's disappearance would affect the British government, they were told that their assistance wasn't needed. They promptly left and decided to crash to the missing person's house at America's recommendation. Then they realized they left Canada behind. Again. They were haft way back to the palace when China pointed out that Canada wasn't missing, just invisible.

This brought them to now: one o'clock in the morning at Britain's house. Britain's house was actually a mansion. Normally, it was filled with maids and servants, but America had given them a week off. The room they were in was a sitting room by the parlor. It was richly decorated in velvet and gold. Even so, America had no qualms about using the coffee table as a foot rest. Russia took a seat in the arm chair. "Da," he agreed. "Though I don't blame him."

The American scowled. "So you don't blame him for st-st-stuttering us out?" he demanded, smirking at his own joke.

"Don't say that," his brother softly scolded. Even though he was sitting right next to him, America didn't hear a single word.

China came in from the kitchen, carrying in hand a tray of tea. "I just called the hotel- aru," he announced, kicking the feet off the table and placing the tray down. "According to management, Germany and the others didn't sign in at all- aru."

Russia scratched his chin. "That's odd." He took a sip of his vodka. "And they didn't even cancel their reservation?"

The other nodded. "I wonder if they found something- aru."

America laughed, giving his brother a comforting squeeze. "No worry," he said. "My man Japan's with 'em. If they're in trouble, I bet they'll be fine." Just as Chine gave a dejected agreement, the door bell rung loudly through the house. "Let the hero get it!"

He jumped out of his chair and ran to the front door. He slammed the door open to find a police officer at the door. "Good morning sir," he greeted, not happy about being at work at such a late time. "Are you a Mr. Alfred F. Jones?"

"Yes I am," America shouted. He grabbed the officer's hand and excitedly shook it. "What can I do for ya?"

The man sighed and stepped to the side. The officer's car was parked at the front, close enough for the nation to see three faces in the back seat. "Hey Alfred!" Prussia called, waving his hand out the window. "I kind of forgot my awesome identification book and Lovino's is covered in blood, so Mr. Officer here didn't believe him."

Annie pushed him aside and yelled, "What the bloody hell did you guys show him anyways?"

America gave a blank look. Grinning, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his booklet. He opened it to the proper page and held it out for him to see. "Do you know what this is?" He demanded.

The officer's eyes went wide. "Yes. That's-"

"Good. Now let them go." The officer was quick to do so, helping Prussia to lift Annie and Lovino out of the back seats and inside the house.

* * *

><p>Once the officer was gone, I gave Alfred a crazy look. "What the hell did you guys show him anyways?" I demanded. Seriously, it was just like earlier when we were going to A- building. "I'm quite sure you guys don't have a paper that reads 'hey we're countries so you kind of have to do whatever we say.'"<p>

I was rightfully ignored. Alfred and Gilbert crowded Lovino, checking the nation's condition. They whispered among themselves for less than a minute, but eventually Alfred jumped to his feet. "China!" he yelled, running to wherever the Asian was. "We have an injured one!"

It was silent as he ran down the hall to grab him. Lovino was breathing with difficulty. Contrite feelings gripped my heart. "Take Romano to a spare bedroom- aru," Yao ordered, running down the hall with a returning American. Alfred quickly obliged. Yao didn't even look at me as he ran into the kitchen and fumbled around for first aid supplies.

I watched him intently. It was fascinating- he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. I didn't notice Ivan when he strode calmly into the foyer. He regarded the situation with expertise. As Yao ran to join Alfred and Lovino in the bedroom, the Russia took the time to loom over me. "You're injured," he said happily, pointing to my leg. From all the abuse I put my leg through; the split bone was sticking out of skin. The pain was numbing and every movement caused it to flare in protest. Before I could object, he lifted me bridal style in his arms. I yelled in pain. "Let's take care of that, da?"

He carried me into a fancy sitting room and placed me on the couch, propping my leg on the coffee table. "What happened?" Matthew asked softly, slightly invisible. I still wonder how he was able to do that.

"We were ambushed," I said. Ivan found a stack of fluffy white towel and pressed them onto my wound. "All of us were taken to my family's mansion."

Gilbert joined us in the room. He lazily took a seat in one of the arm chairs. Somehow, he held a glass of beer in his hand (where did he get that?). "Yeah and the awesome me and Romano avoided being captured and came to the rescue," he rambled. "But then we ran into Annie who told us not to be awesome and run back to you guys."

Ivan raised an eyebrow at that, though didn't say anything. "Why did you do that?" I jumped when a person appeared at my side. He was familiar, though I couldn't remember his name. Was he Alfred?

"_No, Alfred doesn't carry a bear,_" I figured. I looked down at my knees and gripped the cloth of my pants. "Well you see here. . ." I did my best to explain to them about Rosa. All the while, I shook with fear. Even though I saw it with my own eyes, I didn't believe her to be the master mind. I bet she was being threatened into saying what she did.

"_Yeah, that was it._" The thought agreed well with me. _"I bet someone was threatening Caroline and Edward's lives."_

Although they said nothing, I could tell they didn't share my concern. For the longest of time, we sat in silence. The pain filled screams of Lovino going through emergency medical care echoes throughout the mansion. At one point of time, I leaned against Matthew's shoulder and slept. My dreams weren't pleasant. I saw the horrors of the nation's mangled bodies. Added to the list though was Dad, James, and Lovino.

I was just about to see my niece and nephew when an 'Aiya!' followed by a smack behind the head woke me. I moaned an 'ow' and rubbed the back of my head. Standing behind the couch was Yao, holding a cup of who knows what in his hand. The other nations were gone and the clock of the wall read it to be five in the morning. "What the hell was that for?" I asked.

He looked down at me nonchalantly. "You cauterized his wound?" the Asian demanded. "You had to have been really desperate to do something like that- aru!" I said nothing. He walked around the couch and took a seat next to me. "But you saved his life, so I'm going to give you my thanks- aru."

In American movies, the hero would usually get kissed or something when a side character says something like that. However, Yao ignored the crazy look I gave him and removed the towels over my leg. He poured the cup's contents over the wound.

I scream a series colorful words. Whatever it was burned my wound like acid. It bubbled over the spot for a moment before the bone started to voluntarily move back under my skin. Tears fell from my eyes as I felt my legs heal itself completely. God, it fucking hurt! How can the nations stand to go through this?

"Stop acting like a weakling- aru," Yao said as the healing ended. "It doesn't hurt that much."

The pain stopped and I sighed. "What was that?" I asked, lifting my leg in the air. I bent it, testing to see if it worked right. It did.

"A few cooked herbs mixed with my blood- aru." I jumped as he shrugged. "Our blood is a little special," he said. "For some people, it can cause healing like that. Though most of the time, the body rejects it- aru.

"You're blood, hm?" I nodded in appreciation. "That's splendid."

The Asian sighed and retied his pony tail. "Yes it is," he said nonchalantly. His face grew serious. "Though there is another reason why I am here." Considering the effort he was going through not to hold his grudge against me, I thought it best to give him my full attention. "Romano isn't healing like he should," he said. "Did you see anything suspicious that may have caused this- aru?"

Immediately, I took the dart from my pocket and handed it to him. I explained to him my suspicions about the poison. Yao observed the dart carefully. He said nothing as he stood and beckoned me to follow him. The Asian was concentrating on only the dart as he led me from the sitting room and into the kitchen.

The room was a plain, spotless white all around. Yao placed the dart on one of the counters and brought out a knife and bowl. "Go bring out a few carrots- aru," he ordered. I did as I was told, rushing to the refrigerator.

When I came back, I saw that the nation had cut the dart open and was draining a little bit of left over poison into a small, glass bowl. The toxic liquid was a dark red color- almost blood looking. He took a carrot from me and cut a small piece off. "What are you doing?" I asked, looking at him as if he was crazy.

"This poison supposedly halts our healing abilities," he said, dropping the carrot into the bowl. To my utter amazement, the vegetable shriveled and curled onto itself before dissolving into nothing. "Vitamin A is used by the body for the immune system and the development of cells- aru. Carrots contain a high amount of it."

My eyes went wide with realization. Why didn't I see it before? "So the poison prevents your body from healing itself and fighting off diseases," I said. That was dangerous. Something like that could be used in warfare.

Yao took a long breath and buried his face in his hands. He took a seat on the counter and muttered something softly in Chinese. There was something else bothering him. I sat next to him and rubbed his back. "What does that mean?" I asked.

He took another breath. "That poison . . ." he paused, as if afraid to say it aloud. "To an effect, it makes us human- aru."

* * *

><p><strong>SEK<strong>: Well that's a perfect stop to leave off, right guys?

. . .

Guys?

**BFTL**: _When I am a human being, I'm heading straight to New Orleans. And I'll blow this horn-_

**SEK**: Stop singing Disney songs! It ruins the A/N. Right **MW**?

**MW**: _They'll be human again! Only human again! They'll be countries at war no more~!_

**SEK**: -_- I'm surrounded by idiots.

***BFTL** and **MW** start to do the Can-can*

**Both**: _AND REMEMBER TO REVIEW~!_

**Funfacts and Translations**

"Fuori di qui!" Get out of here! Italian.

"Sorellastra" Stepsister. Italian.

"Il mio Tesoro" My treasure. Italian.

"Sacrebleu!" Damn! French.

"He taught me about a technique called cauterization." Real technique, but please don't try it at home, it's very dangerous.

"Draw a circle, there's the Earth!" Have you ever had that moment went you see a joke and just have to do it?

"So you don't blame him for st-st-stuttering us out?" The King at the time had a stuttering problem.

**Next Chapter: **The other nations arrive and we discover what David's plan is.

*****Look at the review button and back at me. Look at the review button and back at me. Unfortunately, It is not as sexy as me, but that does not mean you can't click on it and write a few nice words*****


	18. The Story of Patrick Henson

**MW: ***grins nervously at readers* So you all are probably wondering why this chapter took so long. Well this was actually done last week, however SEK didn't proofread it until today-

**SEK**: Be grateful I even did you dankish, elf-skinned flea!

**MW**: Excuse me? Away I say thou wretched, common-kissing knave!

**SEK**: Thy mother wears armor!

**MW**: *gasp* Take that back!

**BFTL**: *takes out bowl of popcorn* And this kids, is how we make use of our list of Shakespearean insults. They don't seem as though they're going to stop any time soon, so I'll take control of this A/N.

To **MW's** great excitement, we are at 101 reviews! That means that the 100 review contest has been won. And the winner is. . . **Rebel-AK! **To receive your one-shot, please give us a PM or something.

And even though this contest is over, there is still the fanart one! So make sure to participate in that!

And by the way, **MW** still expects you all to review.

**Chapter Summary: **A letter reveals a surprising past for some of our characters.

**Warnings**: Language, Blood, Violence, References to playboy countries.

**Disclaimer: **Sad art we to speakest of our none holder ship of Hetalia copyrights. Ne'er we will.

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 18~<strong>

**The Story of Patrick Henson**

* * *

><p><strong>December 30, 1941 (Three Years Ago)<strong>

**Society Oil Works, London**

I harshly opened the wood door to the conference room where Dad and his colleagues were having their latest meeting. They were going over how the war was affecting their income when they all glanced up and stared at me. My glare traveled over the men before resting over one in particular. Dad.

Dad was a middle aged man with ever thinning hair. His once blond hair looked more gray and wrinkles creased his handsome face. His blue eyes met mine from under thick eyebrows. Dad gaze was more concerning, taking note how awful his daughter looked. Luckily, I was wearing Ivan's coat and new clothes (not the skank outfit). "Leave." His words were simple, crisp, and straight to the point.

His colleagues shuffled out quickly, knowing better than to cross the man that signed their pay checks. I waited until the door was firmly shut before asking, "What the hell was that?" Dad raised an eyebrow in confusion. I limped over to the table and slapped my hands against it. "You promised me a month!"

Dad didn't blink, just raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "I didn't give you anything."

"Then explain why the Parkers attacked my bosses with David and James close in tail!" My voice was hoarse and dangerous.

"Bosses?" The question was plain.

I cursed mentally, before correcting, "HETAs. Why did they attack the HETAs?"

Dad placed his elbows on the table. Deep in thought, he pondered the situation. "I never sent your brother anywhere near Finland."

I was ready to call him a liar, but a revelation came to me. Hesitantly, I yelled, "How did you know we were in Finland?" He was silent again, probably thinking over what lie to tell. I banged my hands again. "Answer me, damnit!"

His blue eyes shot up. "I can't say," he declared fiercely. Something about his voice told me not to cross him. I ignored it.

"You can't say?" I laughed a rather crazy laugh. "That's . . . That's bullshit! Why can't you tell me? Afraid your little puppet would run off her string?"

Dad scowled. "I can't say why, but just know that it was for your own protection."

"Protection?" I ripped off the bandage over my ear, displaying the rather bloody wound. "Well David sure is the safest person for me then!"

He gawked at it, before rising to his feet and approaching me. He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, one I quickly shrugged away. Another went to touch the area around the crusted blood on my head. "David did this?" Dad asked, looking truly concerned for me. I didn't let it phase me.

He was the evil behind this. I will not let that change. Ever.

My voice suddenly became unsteady and drop in volume. "He did everything," I practically whispered. "He did this all. He blew up . . . and he shot. . ." Tears brimmed around my eyes and I slid down to a crouch. Dad knelt to my height and I hugged my legs. "He killed-" My voice cracked. "I killed them. I killed Feli, Alfred, Francis, Ivan, Ludwig- I killed them all. . ." The dam broke and I started to sob like a child.

Dad attempted to hug me, but I brushed him away. He tried to coo soothing tones, bit I snapped at him to shut-up. It felt as though I was wrapped in a blanket of black. Unable to escape._ "Holy shit," _I thought, chuckling insanely under my breath._ "I'm going mad."_

"Annabel?" I sniffled and looked up. Dad was still there, looking at me with melancholy. "I'm sorry I put you through all this. I'm so sorry . . ."

* * *

><p><strong>April 5, 1944<strong>

**Arthur's Mansion**

"Like are you sleeping and junk?"

"Pol, what are you doing with that paint?"

"Like, don't worry Liet. She totally won't mind."

Ugh, I hate it when I remember thing at random. Especially when they're so irrelevant.

Giving a groan, I turned my head to the other side. Ouch, my neck hurts. I heard someone curse in a foreign language before something wet touched my check. I screeched and fell out of my chair. Feliks and Toris were sitting at the kitchen table, the blond armed with a can of pink paint. "Like why did you move?" he asked, twirling a paint brush in his hand. "I like, wasn't finished and junk."

I sighed. "Finished with what?" I asked, taking in the scene around me. After Yao had gone through his revelation last night, he had set to work calling the other nations. I was helping him, but eventually I fell asleep at the table. Now, the whole house was echoing with the noise of excited, chatting countries.

In the kitchen alone, there were ten cooking and having a good time. Most of them were Asian, stir-frying meat and vegetables. Feli wasn't among them. I guess he'd be with Lovino right now, giving him brotherly comfort.

Feliks gave a flick of the hair. "I was like, totally painting a pony on your cheek," he said. A hand went to my cheek and I felt the wet paint. "Don't touch it or else you'll like ruin it and junk." Oh sure, like I would want to do that.

Before I could lash out at him, Yao took a second away from his cooking to order me to stand up. He dragged me over to a corner of the kitchen. "Don't say anything- aru," he whispered testily.

I gave him a confused look. "Say what?"

He sighed and muttered something about how stupid humans were. "The poison," he hissed. "I'm going to announce it once all of the countries get here- aru."

"How many countries are coming?" I asked. There was a small frown on my face. I didn't like any of this.

"Only the ones who knew about Britain's disappearance- aru." He said, pushing me out of the kitchen. "Now go do something productive elsewhere." He closed the kitchen door in my face. Geeze, talk about rude. What did he think I was, a child?

Well considering what Elizaveta told me earlier, yes.

The house wasn't crowded, but it wasn't empty. There were nations constantly wandering the halls. I saw familiar faces like Matthias and Vladimir. There were some that I recognized but didn't know the names to, like the blond comforting Feli during the trial. The nations laughed, ran, and part took in faux fights. It was rare when someone would wave to me, or say hello. It was almost as though I was invisible.

I guess this is how Matthew feels: lonely.

The first thing I decided to do was visit Lovino. I practically tortured him, so I guess I owed him that much, right? I climbed the white stairs to the second level. It was mostly empty, except. . .

"Hello Annie," Gupta greeted, extending a hand to me. He hadn't changed a bit. He was even still wearing his white keffiyeh. I resisted the urge to hug him and calmly shook his hand. "How have you been doing?"

I smiled softly. "Fine." I glanced around the hall. There was no one around except us. "Is Sadiq here?" What? The guy tried to kill me the last I saw him. I want to know if I do or don't have to carry a weapon around.

Luckily, he shook his head. "No. He and Greece are fighting somewhere," he said. Figures. He shook my hand again, saying, "I need to talk to Austria about something-" Oh God, he's here? "-So I must be going." He started to walk away.

"Um, Gupta." He paused at my voice. I quickly asked, "Do you know where Lovino is? I need to tal-"

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME YOU FUCKING JERK!"

"-Never mind. See you later!" Slightly embarrassed, I strutted to the sound of Lovino's voice. When I reached a dark brown door, I softly knocked and invited myself in. The room was large, richly decorated in blue assortments from around the globe.

The Italian laid in a king sized bed. There was a strange mechanism attached to a pole by the bed. A tube reached under the blankets and presumably stopped at his wounds. By the look of it, the device pumped blood out of his body. _"Why do that?"_ I wondered. "_Isn't that a bit counterproductive?"_

Lovino's red face scowled madly at Antonio, seated in a chair right by the bed. As his former boss laughed at whatever, the sleeping Feliciano curled up closer to the injured one. His soft 'Vee~'s barely reached my ears over the sound of the nation's yelling.

"But you looked so cute!" Antonio laughed, pinching at Lovino's cheek. "I just couldn't resist!"

The Italian raised a fist, as if to punch him. "Knock it off!" I yelled, stopping him mid punch. Like the caring, compassionate, person I am (bull!), I roughly grabbed the Spaniard's arm. "Don't aggravate the injured!" I scolded, dragging him to the door. "You're just going to make him worse- Feli! That includes you!" Said Italian grumbled and sleepwalked out of the door before lying on the ground and continuing his siesta in the hall.

I slammed the door shut and turned my sword against Lovino. "And no harsh movements," I scolded, pushing him back into the bed.

He glared at me and fought against my will. "That damn tomato bastard touched my curl!" he yelled. "What else am I suppose to do?"

I didn't understand why that would be important. It's just a strand of hair- what harm can it do? "Something besides that. If you move, you're going to bleed more." He sighed and grumbled something along the lines of me being a bitch. I frowned and tugged the tube lightly. "Do you even know why this is in you?"

"If you're asking about the damn poison, then yes I do," Lovino said. The irritation in his voice was plain. He twirled the tube between his fingers, saying, "Apparently I can't heal myself and my body is producing too much fucking blood for me to handle." That explained it nicely. Very nicely.

I sat in Antonio's chair, heaving the longest sigh possible. "That's great," I muttered. "And I suppose Yao made this with his own two hands?"

"Basically." Did he not sense the sarcasm in my voice? If I thought about it, I guessed that there was some reason rooted in the nation's infrastructure for it. Because that is just how these things are like. "By the way, why the hell do you have a pink pony on your cheek?"

I wanted to groan and quickly rubbed the paint away. "Don't ask."

After that, we sat in silence for a very long time. The Italian drifted into a slumber. I watched the shadows slowly inch from one side of the room to another. Occasionally, the sound of nations greeting each other would break the silence.

It wasn't until late afternoon did the room's door open. Ivan stepped inside as if he was invited. He wasn't. He didn't even knock. "All the nations are here," he said, smiling cheerfully. "We would like to start the meeting."

I frowned. Going to a long, boring meeting was the last thing I wanted to do. "Do they really need me?" I asked, exasperated. The air around us grew dark as the Russian scowled. I immediately jumped from my chair. Note to self: don't disobey him again. "Okay, I'm coming."

He smiled again. "Good," he said before leading me down the hall. Our footsteps echoed loudly on the white marble floor. Ivan took me up another flight of stairs and into a large dining room. I guessed that Arthur was accustomed to entertaining large amounts of people since there was enough space for every nation to sit. Or maybe it was because there were barely thirty nations there.

Even though there were a few places open for me to it, I opted to lean against the green wallpapered wall. Ivan took a seat by the table's head, dictated by Yao. The Asian cleared his throat and said, "I am very grateful that you all were able to make it. As we all know, Germany, Japan, Hungary, and France have been kidnapped by a group of people lead by a woman named Rosa Parker- aru."

A few nations shared glances. Only a few landed on me. That's a bit of an improvement. "We know where they are and I'm sure we can retrieve them and bring the criminals to justice- aru."

Matthias, much to Norway's embarrassment, jumped onto the table and swung his axe around in large circles. "Then what are we waiting for?" he demanded, the corners of his lips touching his blue eyes. "The King of Northern Europe wants to end this for good." I hope he realized that in order to do that, he'll have to kill me.

But he was an idiot, so I guessed not.

The nations were talking excitedly among themselves. Yao was barely able to make his order to get off the table heard. After a few minutes of failing cooperation, Ivan stood. The room immediately hushed. "There is a complication though- aru," Yao said as his lover took his seat again.

He gave a dramatic pause.

The room was quiet.

"They have in their possession a poison that stops our healing ability- aru." The room immediately burst into worried chatter. I didn't blame them. Taking away their healing abilities was like taking away their safety blanket. Except, this might actually kill them.

After a few minutes, Berwald rose and spoke over the noise. "H'w do ya kn'w th's?" he mumbled.

With a sigh, "Romano has been-"

"Grande fratello's human~?" Feliciano cried. He quickly buried his face into a worried Antonio's chest. This just made the commotion worse.

Yao sighed. "No, no. The poison destroys the chemicals in our body that causes our healing -aru. As far as I can tell, this does not affect his respective nation or his status as one. We'll be fine as long as we don't get hurt anywhere vital- aru. I expect the poison to leave his body in a few days, though it'll be in effect for a few months."

"But this is why I have gathered you here. In all of my time living, I have only seen something like this once and all evidence of it was quickly destroyed- aru."

Said nation stood on his chair. "Everything is from Korea- daze!" he proclaimed before calmly taking his place again. Someone shouted that this wasn't. That was odd.

Vladimir slowly cleared his throat. "So this has been done before?" he asked. Slowly, Yao nodded. "Why weren't we informed of this?"

"I knew that if anyone power hungry enough knew that this was possible, they would stop at nothing to get their hands on it- aru." The Asian drummed his fingers on the table. "I destroyed all evidence of it and gave the only vial of it to the empires." By the look on every one's face, the empires were people (personifications?) to be respected. "However, the only detail I shall release about it is that the main ingredient is the blood of a nation- aru."

Dead weight dropped.

I had three thoughts going through my head at that moment.

First: "_His blood? Does that mean I have some of it in my system?_"

Second: "_Wait, no. I would have felt the effects by now._"

Third: "_Wouldn't that mean that they've been taking Arthur's blood?"_

Luckily, Tino asked that question for me. Yao shook his head. "They've only had Britain for a few days and the poison takes around a month if made right- aru."

Nonchalantly, Gupta asked, "Are you implying that they've been getting our blood from someone else?" Thank you for asking what we were all thinking!

"Sadly, yes- aru." The clocked ticked loudly as everyone thought. Was there a traitor among them? Was a nation kidnapped and someone else had been masquerading as him? "I know that this is not pleasant to hear," Yao said. His words held his audience on the edge. "But we are nations and nations must stand by each other- aru. The stakes are high, but we're all we've got. Britain's bosses have refused to give any of us control of the military- it's just us- aru." He paused, letting the words sink in. "I will not force anyone here to join us, but if you can, then please fight- aru."

When no one volunteered, the hopeless look in his brown eyes broke my heart. Then of course, Feliciano stood. "Vee~! I volunteer~!" He sung as he waved his hand wildly in the air. He too happy for the matter on hand. The ice broke, I watched as all the nations stood one-by-one and swore their help.

Smiling, I stood a step off the hall and raised my own hand. "I volunteer," I said.

Ever had one of those moments when you say something and the whole room would chorus a response? It happened to me. "No," they said, some returning to their business immediately as others glared at me.

My jaw fell open. Confusion hit me like lighting. "Why not?" I demanded. Those who were still looking at me gave me 'you can't be serious' looks.

"Can someone explain?" Roderich irritably said. He looked as happy as a wet cat (Like my simile? I thought it was clever).

"Da, I will," Ivan said as he stood. He came to me and ushered me out of the room, saying, "Let's talk where there is quiet, da?" He pulled me into the room across the hall. It was dark, but by the looks of it, it was a study. Ivan motioned for me to sit down and I did. On the desk.

I folded my arms across my chest. "Why can't I help?" I demanded, my patience boiling over easily.

The Russian's face remained completely happy as he replied, "Because you'll just get in the way."

With an eye roll: "You know quite well that I can handle my own in a fight."

He found another excuse. "You're human and humans are fragile."

I scowled. I'll have to try a different tactic. "Why did everyone volunteer?" I asked. "Aren't you all afraid of dying or ending up like Lovino?"

Ivan placed a moment's thought into his answer. "In a way, we all want to become human," he said at last. "If we were human, then Austria could gain credit for his symphonies, Spain's tomato farm could become an international enterprise, we can all stop having to be invisible."

That was possibly one of the most pity worthy speeches I had ever heard. But seriously, that was pretty sad. To do something and yet never earn the appreciation you deserve. . . More than ever I had to fight besides them. My voice had a final tone as I said, "Ivan. Tell me the truth. Why can't I go?"

The nation gave an annoyed look, causing me to flinch. "A few reasons," he said, at last giving into my demands. "Half of us are worried about your mental health."

I gave a huff. "Mental health?"

"Humans aren't use to changes." He painfully poked my forehead. "You'll be luckily to see the next century. Us, on the other hand, have to deal with the course of time. You are following me, da?" I nodded. "Over the past few days you've learned that you're memories were blocked, you're fiancé died and came back to life, and this Rosa person is the master mind. You're sanity might break if we bring you into a fierce battle against people you know."

As much as I hate to admit it, I saw where he was coming from. But I wouldn't or couldn't go insane. That's for- well -crazy people. "The other half of us believe that you may have been in on this scheme all along," Ivan continued. "So it'll be in our best interest to leave you here and if more trouble arises then one of us can kill you." Somehow, it all roots down to my family tree, doesn't it?

I bit my lip and growled, "I don't care." Jumping to my feet, I boldly pointed a finger into the Russian's face. "I started to mess and I am going to end it."

His violet eyes looked at me nonchalantly. In the dim light, they almost seemed to glow. Roughly, he grabbed my hand and squeezed. Hard. Letting out a yelp, it felt as though my fingers were going to break. "Mental health or betrayal," he growled. He seemed ready to kill me. "I hold neither of those opinions. China and I know what is really going on here and we don't want you ruining our plans." He grinned. "Or, more like it, your brother's."

My eyes went wide. David? He had a plan? Since when? How do they know about it, yet I don't? The Russian said, "But right now my concern is that you'll kill yourself before that happens, therefore. . ." He uncurled his hand and painfully ripped my Iron Cross off my neck. "I will be taking this."

Through everything I've been through, that Iron Cross has been one of my most precious treasures. It was a part of me- I wasn't Annabel Milano Henson without that metal on my being somehow. Or my sly remarks. God, imagine me without my sarcasm.

Giving a snarl, I used my free hand to punch him. It landed harmlessly on his chest. Ivan rolled his eyes and threw me into the desk. The corner made contact with the back of my head. It wasn't enough to give me a concussion, but I still left in a daze. When my head cleared enough, I was able to make out the nation.

He had one foot out the door. Smiling happily, he showed me the pedant one last time. "You'll get this back on the day I get to kill you," he said before closing the door shut.

It occurred to me too late. I scrambled to my feet and ran to the door. Banging my shoulder against it, I gave a defeated groan. I heard the lock click. I was locked in.

Damn him.

* * *

><p><strong>April 5, 1944<strong>

**The Basement**

"So you all are the human personifications of countries whom are currently at war with each other in order to mirror the events of the war right now?" The nations gave a long nodded. David stared at them, the most confused look on his face. "So Miss Héderváry is over a hundred years old?" he asked, a pleading look in his face.

Hungary gave a long sigh. No woman- including herself -never liked to talk about their age. "Yes," she confirmed. "Over a thousand actually."

He quiet for a long minute. France and Germany prayed that he was finally defeated. Instead, the brunette brightened up. "Well, I've always liked older women."

She groaned. "I've already been married," she said testily. "Do you really think that I'll-"

"Hey Artie, quick question." David gave the blond huge puppy eyes. The Hungarian muttered something about his short attention span before quietly conversing with Japan.

Britain scowled. "Arthur," he corrected. "Do not call me Artie."

"Same difference," he brushed away. Somehow, he was able to speak a hundred words a minute yet say everything with clarity. "Anyways, can you explain something to me? You said that Walter would be a 'lifeless lump' if he was brought back to life yet he seems pretty active to me."

The blond sighed. One thing that annoyed him about humans (or at least this one) was their tendency to ask questions. "By lifeless lump I meant the loss of the soul. When the soul is gone, the mind is vulnerable to anything, especially manipulation." He crossed his arms. "You said Rosa whispered something into his ear, right? Well if she did that long enough, then he'll start to believe everything she says."

David gave an 'oh' and sat in silence.

"May I suggest we come up with a way out of here?" Japan said. "We have to get out of here."

"Alright."

* * *

><p><strong>April 5, 1944<strong>

**A Few Hours Later**

Looking outside the window, I saw their cars being loaded with gun and nations. It was nearing sunset and they were off to rescue their comrades. I was still locked in the study. I gave-up a few hours ago on trying to get out. First, I screamed and pounded on the door. Then I just listened for a soul to walk by and begged for them to open the door for me. Someone must have complained since Ivan eventually knocked on the door and ordered me to shut-up.

Once again, I say 'damn him.'

I moved away from the window and sat on the desk. I was three stories up- jumping out would be a bad idea. Then again, didn't I do that this morning and got away with a broken leg? But Yao had healed me then, so I didn't want to risk him doing that again. The pain. . . I'll rather just skip it.

There was a knock on the door. "We're leaving now," Ivan called. "Prussia is staying behind to guard Romano and he has been ordered to make sure you stay in here, so don't even try." I could imagine his happy face. "Be good, da?"

I mumbled a hollow promise and his heavy footsteps echoed down the hall and faded away. I stared out the window and sighed as he climbed into the driver's seat and drove away. "_This isn't fair,_" I thought stubbornly. "_I should be fighting with them._" My brother's supposed 'plan' came back into my mind. I shook it out. "_I don't care about that! I have to fight with them_."

For awhile, I sat there thinking sour thoughts about how life wasn't fair. At that moment, I was acting like nothing more than an immature teenager. Eventually, I matured and told myself to deal with it. There had to be something I could do here to help. "_But what?_" I groaned and buried my face in my sweaty palms. Wait a second. . .

I looked up and studied my hand carefully. _Arsenius_. Dad had written 'Arsenius' on my hand when he died. James wrote 'David' and someone wrote 'call him'. All of the messages were written in blood. "_Perhaps they are related somehow._"

I started to put the words together.

_Arsenius, call him Daivd._ That didn't seem right.

_David, call him Arsenius_. David's Arsenius? No, not right either.

Now that I thought about it, 'David' seemed like a last minute message. It was written messily as if it was a last second decision. I took it out of the equation.

_Arsenius, call him. _Call Arsenius? With what? A phone? Telegram? At that time, neither were in my immediate disposal. So do I just call his name and see what happens?

Feeling rather foolish, I cleared my throat. 'A-Arsenius?" I muttered. Nothing in the room changed. Of course nothing would. Then again, I'm living in a world where the existence of personified countries is possible. "Arsenius?" It was a little louder this time. Nothing happened. "I'm calling you, Arsenius."

When there was silence again, I gave a dejected sigh. "Nothing happened," I said, groaning slightly. Of course it didn't work. The messages must have a different meaning. Maybe it was a code I had to decode.

"What didn't happen?"

"Oh, some random angel was suppose to appear," I said, giving a small chuckle. "It was kind of- HOLY SHIT!" I fell off the desk and pointed an accusing finger at the man who had previous been sitting next to me. "When the fuck did you get there?" I yelled, panic drenched in my voice.

The man was- in one word -incredibility good looking. He was much older than me, but younger than my dad. His brown hair was silky, though a few stray curls popped out of it. His skin was between fair and olive. Carmel eyes sparkled brightly, complimenting the casual black suit he wore. He didn't seem fazed at all. "A few moments ago," he said simply. "When you called me."

My mouth dropped and fell to the ground. He couldn't be. . . "Are you Arsenius?" I demanded. If he wasn't, I was going to take the nearest object and throw it at him.

Lucky for him, he smiled broadly and proclaimed, "Of course I am-" He flexed his muscles for me to see. "-Of course, I am better known as the Great Roman Empire."

Great Roman Empire? As in a personification? As in, a legitimate reason for me to smack my forehead? "Of course you're a freaking country!" I exclaimed. "Since when was there anything mildly important that didn't involve countries?"

"Empire," Arsenius corrected. By the tone in his voice, I'll say he was offended. "I'm THE Great Roman Empire."

"Same difference," I snapped. Burying my face in my hands, I gave a long sigh. A few deep, calming breaths later, I looked up and glared at him. "So Arsenius, why are you here?" I demanded.

He smiled again. "Because you called me," he repeated.

This guy was either an idiot or took things too literally. "No." The impatience seeped into my voice. "Why did my father scrawl your name on my hand?"

Arsenius jumped off the desk and bent down to me. His face was barley a foot from mine. "You're Patrick's kid, no?" he asked. The empire placed a finger above and under an eye and stretched it open. "You do have his eyes. . ."

I pushed him away as the astonishment hit me. "How do you know my dad?" I asked.

The empire reached into his pocket and pulled out a white envelope. It was old, the corners worn and the seal nearly undone. "He asked me to give this to you," he said, handing the paper to me.

Hesitantly, I accepted. That didn't answer how Dad knew him, but maybe that lied inside. Carefully, I broke the seal and unfolded a stack of papers. It was covered with small, neat, cursive writing. Scrutinizing it carefully, I realized that it was a letter.

From my dad.

Addressed to me.

Was in my hands the answer to everything? It was really that simple and easy? Was that even possible? Wasn't there some sort of law against something like this? It felt as though the weight of the world was in my hands. Slowly, I took a seat on the desk and started to read.

* * *

><p><em>My Dearest Annie,<em>

_If you are reading this, then my predicament must be death. I apologize for leaving you are your brother alone; especially after all of the trouble I caused you. The fates which you both have in store are not something I wished on either of you._

_Sadly, the situation we are in now is due to my previous arrogance and carelessness. I pray that you and your brother may repair your relationship and work towards the goal I always had in mind._

_But you are my child and I know you all too well. Perhaps this time you wouldn't be difficult and listen to what I am about to tell you. When your mother- actually, I must start at the beginning. If I don't, then you shall still have unanswered question at the end._

_As we are both well aware, I was twenty eight when the Great War first began. At that time, all the families were ruled by Queen Victoria's generation (my father and your grandfather). People like Abigale, her late brother Eric, John Fisher, and I were restless youths looking for a cause._

_At that time, I did not believe in the existence of HETAs. Many of us didn't. Actually, if I remember correctly, Abigale was the only firm believer in them. We use to mock her for it, claiming that since she was a woman, she didn't understand the principles of politics. But she always was a strong one. Always, she would hold her head up high and huff at our ignorance._

_Then the Great War struck. I did not enlist until late October. As your own experiences taught you, being a soldier wasn't what it was made out to be. I could not stand to take another's life. Every day, I was tempted to become an AWOL. But the idea of dishonoring my father prevented me. I may not have had the best relationship with him, but I still strove to please him whenever I could._

_It was one battle in France when everything changed. During the summer of 1915, not even a year into the war and I was fighting in France. The battle was fierce as we ran throughout No Man's Land. I remember clearly a tall blond with the thickest eyebrows I had ever seen. That day, he was yelling at us chaps to 'defeat the German bastards to prove those Goddamn frogs wrong' when I witnessed him being shot in the head. _

_Shocked, I stared until a bomb of mustard gas was set off. I was one of the few who saw it coming. I was able to cover my face in time and escaped with minor wounds. I was left in the middle of No Man's Land with no idea where I should go. _

_So I sat in the mud for a long time. It was quiet until the blond Commander I saw before suddenly moaned and sat up. Before my eyes, I saw the bullet hole in his head heal. Immediately, he pulled out his gun and threatened my life. For once in my life, I was grateful for my social status._

_The Commander, Arthur Kirkland, let me leave with my life. All he told me about his existence is that he was as old as Britain herself. Now that I think about it, he only released me due to the prejudice of upper society. If I had been a working class civilian, I would have died._

_Less than a week later, I fell while marching and broke my leg. I was rendered a temporary leave back to London where I once again met Abigale. She told me that her father wanted to send her to Italy in order to observe someone 'important'. She did not want to go since she was newlywed to someone of the Connor family and wanted to have her first child._

_At first, I did not want to leave either. However, the idea that my actions could let me please my father sent me packing my bags and sailing to the Boot. At that time, Italy was a neutral country in the war._

_I made a living in a small fishing village as a banker. That is, of course, where I met the woman I was supposed to be observing. She was your mother: Mia Roma Rossi. To put it nicely, she was a spirited woman, though very defensive against everyone around her- with reasonable cause of course._

_Your mother's eyes were a caramel brown color, but her parents both had a vibrant green shade. It was no secret that she was a bastard child. And she was treated as such. Even so, I fell in love with her._

_I can imagine you right now Annie: laughing at how stupid it was of me to do something like that. But your mother was an amazing woman, I could not help it._

_We wed. It was around the time Mia was pregnant with David did I remember my family and the HETAs. I tried to convince her to move to Switzerland or America, but she wouldn't have it. She refused to leave her homeland. _

_David was born on November 27, 1916. Two years later, on August 19, you came into the world. With you, David, and your mother; I was the happiest man on earth. My bliss lasted for the next eight years of my life._

_Then, of course, came the day your mother died. The trouble had first aroused the day before. I remember it clearly. You and David were happily playing your game of 'pirates' on the beach. Mia sat on the porch, mending David's torn pants. The Mediterranean sun shone brightly through the window and into the upstairs bedroom. _

_I was inside, looking down at the three of you. While I was at work, an unmarked package arrived for me. It contained two items._

_The first was a letter. It was signed by a friend of mine: John Fisher. It explained that my father, Eric Parker, and Abigale's husband died in a car crash. During my absence, Abigale and her cousin Joseph rallied the Parke's to take over both Society Oil works and the HETA association behind it. I was needed to return to Britain and resume my rightful place as head._

_He also explained that the Parkers found out where I was. And they were coming. He urged me to hide my family. _

_That brought me to the second item. It was the leather book I gave you. John wrote that in case I failed, my children would at least understand what a HETA is._

_Your birthday came and with your normal gift (a cute doll you had named 'Francesca'), I gave you the book. Your mother, of course, wanted to know where I got such a thing. The argument you and David had heard that night was me trying to explain to her who I was._

_She called me crazy and claimed that I only making up crazy stories as an excuse to leave Italy. I've never blamed her for saying such things. Your mother stormed out of the house in a rage. I watched her from the window, knowing well that she wouldn't leave the area. Sure enough, she stayed on the beach._

_But someone joined her._

_Fearing the stranger to be a Parker, I grabbed my gun and ran to defend her. I pointed the gun at the HETA, telling him which family I came from and demanding to know his. Of course, he did not understand me. The HETA raised a gun at us and the next thing I knew Mia was falling to the ground, dead._

_Then you screamed. My dear Annie, I had not realized you followed us outside. The HETA, of course, turned against you. I was shocked over the sudden death of your mother, I didn't react fast enough. I traumatized you by shooting the HETA when he was so close to you._

_Please forgive me for that._

_You know what happened next, he got away and people trickled onto the beach, asking what had happened. I made up a story about a mugging-gone-wrong and let it drop with that. I admit, Annie, I admit that for the next year or so I was not the best parent._

_I admit that I was distant and hot tempered. So was your brother. I know you loath the very thought of David, but please understand that he was mad at himself. He was upset that he was weak and fainted in your moment of peril. He is very protective of you._

_There was nothing left for me in Italy. We moved back to Britain and I strove to reclaim my status. You were so young at the time; you probably didn't understand what was happening. Eventually, I struck a deal with Abigale. _

_We would marry and merge our two opposing sides into one. I agreed and Rosa became your stepsister. Rosa, where do I start with her? Abigale raised her in the perfect image of herself. The girl was tactful and manipulative. Rosa just happened to wrap her hands around you._

_You did not know it, but everything she did was to guarantee your undying loyalty to her. Rosa manipulated you, Annie. Do not think that you know better than to let that happen. The point to manipulating someone is so they don't realize its happening._

_Then came to your boarding in America. Abigale wanted to separate you two from me. It was to either weaken my morale or to further attempt to loosen you both from my grasp. It worked with you. Every year you were away, I felt as though you were further alienated from me. David, amazingly, held strong._

_It was because of this that I told David my plan. He came into my office one summer repeated to me something James heard from his father. Naturally, he was curious to what was really going on. I explained everything to him. Although a bit rash, he was the greatest ally I could ever have._

_You grew and I had to further guarantee your protection. I agreed to the arranged marriage between you and Walter. He was a good guy with a good heart. Then came the moment when I realized that I was losing you completely. I had to do something._

_I sent James and David into Germany. I told James a number (50 if I remember correctly) and had David arrange for you two to end up in the same camp. Believe it or not, Germany was the safest place for you._

_What I did not expect for you to discover the HETAs yourself or become friends with them. It was a miracle. The very fact that you wanted to be there proved that attempting to kill them was wrong. With this in mind, I was able to convince a few dozen close supporters to help me end this insanity once and for all._

_But it didn't happen that way._

_You came back, mentally disturbed and blaming yourself for everything. You were unstable from everything. Rodger had killed all the HETAs and David cut off your ear (which his defense was that he tried to get you to go back to Britain with him willingly, but you resisted so he had to resort to violence. I don't blame you for hating him for that. I know I do) (Though, don't tell him that; it'll only make him sad)._

_You were also a prime target for Rosa. You knew so much- whatever she was planning, you would be the key to guaranteeing its success. Then came the day Arthur Kirkland came back. Your memories were gone and you became the daughter I loved again._

_Yes, you were different, but you weren't on the verge of suicide like before. _

_For three long years, I pushed off your marriage bit by bit until it started to become suspicious. Then those other two HETAs appeared. It was by sheer luck I came upon Rodger beating the small one. I captured him before the Parkers could, but even with him in my care, I couldn't protect him completely._

_I had to hurt him or else it'll look suspicious in everyone else's eyes. Please tell the HETA that I am sorry. _

_But while I had him in my care, a man came to see me. He called himself Arsenius and threatened my life if I didn't release his grandson. I recognized his name from Mia's boat. I told him of our connection and my cause. Eventually, we became allies. _

_He said that although he couldn't do anything for me at that moment, I could call him if I needed him. Then he just disappeared; like magic. I thought I was crazy._

_That brings us to now: March 19, 1944. Today is the day of your reception, or at least it was. Annie, you no doubt just rescued the Italian in the basement. Arthur Kirkland gave David, James, Abigale, and I a grand display of his magic. He did us no physical harm, though his power shocked Abigale to death._

_I have just sent David and James down stairs to break the news to you. Things have just gotten more dangerous for us. Rosa and Rodger and now in command of the Parker family. Unlike their predecessor, neither would hesitate to perform a coup d'état. _

_I am running out of time before someone enters my study to know what happens, so I must make this quick._

_From what I've gathered over the years, there is something very special about you. Something so special that Abigale would kill in order to have you under her control. _

_Your mother was a bastard child. She is the result of a human (her mother) and a HETA (I think Arsenius, though he denies it, claiming that your Great-Great Grandmother was not on his 'conquer list') mating. There is something special about your genes, something that even the Alwins would kill to get their hands on._

_When you were first came back from Finland, Walter took a sample of your blood (under my request) and examined it for anything special. There was a healing ability locked inside of it. Annie, you are such a special girl. But having something like that would get you killed. _

_I implore this of you: stand by your brother. You two are the only faith I have left to finish what I have started. Listen to him, please. He knows exactly what to do. _

_If he tells you to stay out of the fighting, then do so. If he tells you to run, then run. That is all I ask of you. Please._

_I am going to call Arsenius. I am going to give him this letter with strict orders not to give it to you until you call for him. I am also going to request something special. If you ever get into a situation where you are about to die, I want him to interfere and prevent that from happening._

_Annie, my precious little girl. You and David are the only thing I have left living for; it pains me that you must finish what I started. I dream of a future where you both are happy, married and raising children of your own._

_Living a normal life._

_No matter what, I always have and will love you both._

_Always._

_With the sincerest of love,_

_Your father: Patrick Micheal Henson_

* * *

><p><strong>April 5, 1944<strong>

**The Study**

Frozen, I stared at the letter in my hand. "I. . ." I muttered, shaking uncontrollably. Gently, I placed the papers on the desk. I felt like Alice: crossing through the looking glass to find herself in a world similar to her own. But it wasn't her world. Flowers could talk and nonsense was sense.

And humans were countries. I buried my face in my sweaty hands, breathing deep breaths slowly. "Arsenius." The empire gave me his attention. "Am I your granddaughter?"

He smiled broadly, the aura around him sparkling. "No," he replied. "Though I can't blame you for wanting to be since it would be absolutely amazing if you were-"

I sighed. "Then who is?" I demanded. He paused as I replied my question. "Who is my grandfather?"

"Annie! I found a use for them!" Gilbert slammed the door open, happily holding a wet, burnt scone in his hand. "Arthur's scones can unplug toilets! Isn't that awe-"

He stopped when he saw Arsenius and I sitting on the desk. He stared for a second longer before switching to a serious face. "Great Roman Empire," he said, sounding polite for once. "What brings you to my awesome presence?"

Arsenius smiled brightly. "What are you doing here Prussia?" he asked. "I thought your country didn't exist anymore."

Irritation twitched on the country's face. "Properly, I'm known as East Germany now," he said. Searching to change the subject, he offered, "Do you want me to leave or bring Romano in here?"

The empire thought about it for a minute. "Can you bring my grandson in here?" he asked. "I want you both here to make explaining a lot easier." Gilbert gave a 'yes sir' before marching away. I was going to guess that empires were people to be respected.

I gave him an odd look and asked, "Aren't you aware of the legend of 'L'Angelo d'Italia?'"

Arsenius nodded. "Why wouldn't I?" he asked, wrapping a blanket of self absorbency around himself. "It is one of the great legacies I left behind." Of course. . .

"How were you able to bless my Great-Great Grandmother with a child?" I asked.

The Italian's face fell. He looked slightly nervous, scratching his head. "Actually, it was by sheer luck," he said meekly. Humbleness over, he smiled and flexed his biceps. "Of course someone like me would be so lucky since who isn't as lucky as me?"

Cue the eye roll. This guy was a thorn to the side. I was almost happy that I wasn't descended from him. But that still left the answer of whom? "Why do we need Lovino and Gilbert?" I asked. Then it occurred to me. "Oh God, you mean-"

"Si!" Arsenius jumped onto the desk and pointed a calloused finger at me. "Romano is your mother's father!" Holy shit. What? That was . . . that was just awkward! Man. . . .

But wouldn't it be terrible to say that the moment those words were uttered, Gilbert came back with said Italian in his arms?

. . .

"What the fuck!" Lovino swore, struggling to the Prussian's grasp. He wasn't necessarily in the physical state to be doing such a thing. "You're my fucking what? What in the goddamned hell are you fucking talking about? How in the goddamn world is this fucking bitch fucking related to me? Holy crapola, it makes no fucking sen-" At that point, I was rather thankful that his wound started to bleed incessantly. He ended up fainting from blood loss.

Gilbert looked down at him and shrugged. "That was convenient," he said dryly. The blond laid the country on the couch, resting his head on his grandfather's lap. Once the Prussian calmly took his seat in a large leather chair, his red eyes grew wide. "Wait a fucking minute!" He pointed an accusing finger at me. "You're Lovino's fucking granddaughter?"

I smacked my forehead. That was a little late. "I'm surrounded by idiots," I muttered as Arsenius merrily explained my lineage. I took the letter back in my hands and scanned the paragraphs again.

All along, Rosa had been using me for her own purposes? I didn't want- no -couldn't believe it. She was always so kind and sweet. What about the time she conceived a child? Was I to believe she faked losing a baby?

What about David? He's been a secret savior this whole time? He cut off my ear because he thought that it'll save me? What bullshit! Only an idiot would believe that.

Yet, there was that ending monologue. I was descended from a country. There was something special about my genes. It explained perfectly why I looked so much like the Vargas brothers. However, how would that justify my mother's death?

The killer had to be a nation. How else would he be able to come back alive? But why would a nation kill their illegitimate child? Nonetheless, their child of their bastard?

Ivan smiling at me as he locked me in the room came to mind. He and Yao figured it out. I don't even know them all too well, but somehow they discovered something about myself I didn't know. The answer has to be right in front of me; I just wasn't looking hard enough. I twisted the ring on my finger. Unless, they already told me. But when?

Suddenly, it clicked in my mind.

_"Basically our genes as nations are a recessive gene-aru," Yao said. "If two of us had sex with two different people and they got pregnant and passed our recessive gene on to the baby and the two offspring have sex with each other and passed that gene to their child, then their child might be a half breed-aru."_

_"Okay, but what is a half breed?" I asked._

_The Chinese man sighed and took another drink. "It depends really on the person's chemical make-up-aru. Some live extend lives, others don't age. One time a person had super strength-aru."_

_I found myself curious about the topic. "What do you do when you find a half breed?"_

_Yao took another sip of his drink. "Simple. We kill them-aru." _

"I'm a half breed!" I exclaimed, jumping off the desk. Gilbert and Arsenius gave me worried looks. That was the only reasonable answer. Why else would they go through all this trouble? "That's why a HETA was sent to kill Mom," I rambled, pacing in my spot. "That's why I have this healing ability. And that's why Abigale went through all that trouble to keep me on her side. . ." I trailed off, seeing the expression on their faces.

Neither of them looked happy. In fact, weary was the most appropriate word. I remembered the country's mess-up, his muttering of 'you were the little girl.' I marched up to Gilbert, frowning in knowing. "But you already knew that," I said. I shot my Great-Grandfather a look. "And you both did."

Arsenius shrugged. "Si. We did."

"Why?" I demanded. Anger boiled in my head. "And why was a nation sent to kill Mom?"

"We didn't," Gilbert said hastily. "We aren't that unawesome to do such a thing. Right Rome?"

He smiled brightly. "Si!" They were both only half convincing. I swear, I will get the truth from them. Sooner or later. The empire changed the subject, saying, "If you are a haft breed, then you have inherited blood from a different nation besides my cute little Romano~!" He rubbed his nose against the unconscious man's. We lost him.

The Prussian took his placing, saying, "He's right. There has to be another nation your vatti descended from as well."

"Well the obvious answer would be Arthur," I sighed. "I am British after all."

He peered at me, taking in every aspect of my features. "But you look nothing like him," he complained. "Maybe you have genes from someone more awesome?"

"Like you?"

"Like me and my five meters of awesome!" Again, I smacked my forehead. Why? I repeat, why? Why must everything with the Prussian root back to being a pervert?

"But no one in my family has had an illegitimate child," I said. "So obviously, it had to happen long ago."

Arsenius, finally done with his 'cute' moment. "That's unlikely," he said. "But possible. Britain did have a wild time." Gilbert seemed intrigued by the idea and the empire was more than happy to explain the good old pirate days.

I tuned most of it out, remembering another part of the letter. "_My blood has healing abilities," _I thought. Wanting to test it out, I placed my finger in my mouth and bit down hard. As the pain in my finger intensified, I realized something. I took my finger out of my mouth, thinking, _"I've been injured how many times? Shouldn't my body have healed itself?"_

As Gilbert brought back the idea of me not looking very British, I moved to the window. The sky was an intense orange as the sun sunk lower into the ground. Like a ghost, my transparent reflection stared back at me. I really didn't look like Arthur. I don't even have thick eyebrows.

But Dad did.

And David use to, but he grew out of it.

But thick eyebrows were a stereotypical British thing, so I had to have inherited a different trait.

Wait a second. . .

"We need to follow them." I turned and faced the two nations. They gave me blank expressions. "I have to talk to him." I purposely didn't say who exactly.

Gilbert stood. "Nein," he declared. "Russia told me to keep you here. If he found out-"

As much as I hated to do this, it looked as though I'll have to attack his foible. "But that wouldn't be awesome." I pouted.

Within ten minutes, we had Lovino hooked-up to his tube thing and resting peacefully in his bed. Arsenius wrote him a note, explaining the situation as Gilbert readied a mode of transportation. "You're coming with us?" I asked as Arsenius took a gun from the Arthur's private arsenal. It was amazing how such a gentleman could keep so many weapons.

"No. As great as I am, I mustn't get involve," he replied. "But I will accompany you as far as I can."

I smiled. "Grazie." I pulled a holster off a rack, tied it around my waist, and insert two hand guns. "Can I ask you one more question," I said, sliding the strap to the latest rifle model over my shoulder. "When I was fighting Kiku at the trial, did you-"

"Interfere in order to ensure your survival?" He finished. Grinning he nodded, "Si. The Great Roman Empire is always true to his word. I promised Signor Henson that I'll ensure your life."

He walked away before I could point out that due to that, I've been sentenced to death by Russian. I twisted the ring on my finger. But that didn't matter. I was going to figure out what happened to my mother. I'll find out who killed her, and then. . .

And then I'll kill the bastard who pulled the trigger. Be it Ludwig or Feliciano or anyone else.

I'll end their existence.

* * *

><p><strong>April 5, 1944<strong>

**The Basement**

"Germany, is it?" The nation gave a silent groan as David took a seat next to him. They say on the stairs, both waiting for Japan to finish undoing France's handcuffs. After a day of debating, they eventually had an escape plan. However, they needed their hands free and out of their bounds. That solution came when Japan realized that he could use the needles in the darts to pick the lock. God love the Japanese.

Germany glared at the human. "My name is Ludwig," he corrected. He really wasn't in a good mood: for some odd reason, his head wound has yet to heal. Everyone else's injuries weren't as serious so they barely noticed.

David nodded absentmindedly. "Whatever you say," he muttered before saying, "I have a personal question to ask you."

"What?" The blond exclaimed. What in the world could he possibly want to know?

But instead of asking, he started rambling. "Well it's not a 'personal' question, per say, but more like a question involving the politics of your country and since you are the country-"

"Get on with it."

"Right." His hopeful, blue eyes met the German's cold ones. "Do you approve of Hitler?"

Really? All the build up and that was it? He had to be joking. Even so, he confirmed, "Ja."

David seemed a little sad by the prospect. "Oh. So you're a mindless Nazi too," he sighed. "That's fine." With that, he crossed the line. Germany lashed out and wrapped a hand firmly around the other's neck. The country slammed him into the stairs. "What the hell?" David gasped.

Japan jumped away from France to attempt to mend the situation. "Calm down Germany-san," he said, as Britain tried to gently pull the blond away. Hungary wasn't as patient and was searching the room to find a replacement for her frying pan. "I'm sure Rossi-san didn't mean it that way."

"Like hell I meant it!" The human snapped. He clawed away his attacker's fingers desperately, trying to loosen the grip and gain more air. "You want to know something Ludwig?" he growled. "I would've thought you would be better than this. I would've thought that you would have the guts to gain some free will and do whatever the hell you wanted." Germany's grip loosened ever so slightly. "But I guess I was wrong. Haven't you ever wanted a free will? Don't you want a voice of your own?"

They were frozen for a good minute. Slowly, Germany released him and sat quietly on the stairs. The brunette rubbed his neck. He didn't know what he just said, but something about it made the country's eyes less cold.

That one difference made him appear to be a completely different person. "A free will. . ." Germany muttered, lost in his own thoughts for a second.

Britain placed a warm hand on the human's shoulder. "Congratulations," he said cheerfully. "I think you just did it."

David gave a confused look. "Did what Artie?"

His green eyes fell. "Arthur," he corrected. "You just brought normal Germany back to us."

This only made him more confuse. "Normal? Since when was he different?"

From across the room, France called, "It's best you don't ask, mon aim. It'll take too long." He held his hands in the air, showing everyone his bounds. "Le Japon, if you would please?"

Japan nodded. "Hai, France-san, I'll be-" He paused, looking at the corner. Their visitor was a little away from the wall, picking a picture off the ground. His blue eyes studied the photograph. "What do you have there, mishiranu hito-san?"

David looked at the stranger and realized what he was holding. "Is that my-" he checked is pockets and bellowed a loud curse. He marched up to him and snatched the picture from him.

"What is it?" Japan asked, secretly annoyed by the other's rudeness.

"Something precious to me," he snapped. He glared for a long moment before handing it to the nation. "Here, you might as well know. It's a picture of my mom and Annie when they were young."

The Asian studied it for a long moment. When he looked up, he peered curiously at David. "You were in Germany, hai?" he asked. "You had blond hair and you masqueraded as a German soldier."

"How did you. . ." He smiled broadly and hugged Japan. "Commander Honda! It's you! I still owe you my life!"

Hungary, France, and Britain exchanged confused look. "What?"

As he explained his connection to the man, Germany rose from the stairs. He felt like a different person. For the first time in a long time, he felt free. So free. The suffocating grip he had felt for the past three years seems to have vanished. Slowly, he started to walk around the cell. Maybe it wasn't over for him. He could put aside his pride and apologize to Italy and Prussia for being an arschloch.

He knew Italy would gladly take him back, though his bruder might be a bit more of a problem. But even if it took him centuries, Germany was going to get him to forgive him for being a terrible little bruder. "_Even if he did always confuse me for Holy Rome,_" He thought, walking by the stranger.

That's when he heard him. The stranger was looking down at his hands, muttering softly under his breath. "Das kleine mädchen," he muttered. "Das kleine mädchen und die frau."

Germany stared at him. "Hey Ludwig," David called, marching up to the German. "I just want you to know that I'm not going to tell you how easy it was to infiltrate your military." He started to say more, when he realized that he wasn't even paying attention. "Oi, Ludwig. Is something. . ."

He trailed off when the stranger said again, "Das kleine mädchen."

"What the-"

The nation grabbed his elbow and yanked him away. "It's nothing," Germany said hurriedly. "He muttering gibberish."

David pulled his arm away. All the other nations in the room were resuming their previous activity and paying them no heed. "I speak German idiot," he growled, low enough for only the other to hear. "I know what he said."

"Oh really?" Germany laughed in disbelief. "What is that?"

"He muttered 'the little girl.'" He glared at the stranger. "If he plans on doing anything to Annie, I swear I'll-"

"Germany-san, Rossi-san, we're ready to try unlocking the door." Japan stood at the top of the stairs, two needles in the lock already. He must have finished undoing France's cuffs. The men glared at each other before marfc5dching up the stairs to join them.

France, Britain, and Hungary were quick to join them. They all stood in silence, save for the Brit snapping for France to move his hand away from his ass, as Japan worked away. Then the lock clicked undone.

"Good job mon aim," France muttered. "Let's get the hell out of here."

The Asian gave a nervous look. "But France-san, I was not close to unlocking it at all." All their eyes went wide and they took a long step back. The door swung open and before them stood two figures.

* * *

><p><strong>MW: <strong>I'll like to say that none of you saw that coming, but your reviews say otherwise.

**SEK**: I dream of a day where I can proofread for someone who doesn't over foreshadow their cliché plot points.

**MW**: HEY! I love foreshadowing! And yes, having an OC that descends from a country is incredibly cliché, but. . .

**SEK**: *grins* you have no excuse, don't you.

**MW**: Anyways-

**SEK**: You're changing the subject. Real mature Wolf.

**MW: **-anyways-

**BFTL**: Seriously MW, can't you treat this like an adult?

**MW**: ANYWAYS! The next two chapters are mostly the climax fight scenes. Then it's the epilogue and then the omake thingy (which reminds me, if you drew fan art, then you have the right away to tell me your prompts) so WE'RE SO CLOSE TO FINISHING!

So you all should be nice and review!

**Funfacts and Translations**

"He only released me due to the prejudice of upper society…" Basically, before WW1, upper class and lower class were very separate.

"Arthur's scones can unplug toilets!" That line made the chapter.

"Like me and my five meters of awesome!" This one did too.

"mishiranu hito-san" Stranger. Japanese.

"Das kleine mädchen, und die frau." The little girl and the woman. German.

**Next Chapter: **As the end begins, Annie finally discovers what happened to her mom.

*****'Tis proper for thou to review I hath written for thou. Wilt thou spare a small minute to review?*****


	19. The Beginning of the End

**SEK: **Have any fours?

**BFTL**: Go fish.

**MW**: *staring at the computer screen* Wait a second. . . DUDES! On Wednesday was one of our reviewer's birthday!

**SEK**: *placing cards down* Who?

**MW: **Her name is** Lady Izel.**

**BFTL: **Oh really? Shall we?

**SEK: ***grins* Yes, we shall.

**All**: Happy birthday to you! Francis will rape you! España is jealous! And Prussia will invade you~! *totally wrote that on the spot*

(BTW, it's been awhile since I was able to write a chapter within a week)

**Chapter Summary**: The truth is reveal!

**Warnings**: Language, Blood, Depressing Material, References to Playboy countries, and the 5 meters

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Hetalia. We do own that Happy Birthday song though.

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 19~<strong>

**The Beginning of the End**

* * *

><p><strong>April 5, 1944<strong>

**The Basement**

Germany blindly punched the first person he could. That was expected. He made contact with a person's nose and felt the bone shatter under his force. That was also expected. What no one anticipated was for a girl to cry out in pain. "OW~!" She moaned, tearing up as she clutched her nose. "That hurt! Why did you do that?"

Then the second person, another girl, scowled. "Natalie, I told you not to get too close to the door," her older sister, Sarah scolded. She placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and moved her away from the German.

Naturally, the nations were wary. Who were these girls and why weren't they attacking them? David smiled broadly and wrapped his good arm around them. "Cugino Natalie~!" He sang. "Cugino Sarah~! What are you bellas doing here?"

Hungary raised an eyebrow/ "Cousin?" she asked. "You are related to them?"  
>He happily nodded. "Yes. Natalie and Sarah are my second cousins on my Dad's side."<p>

The blond Frenchman of the group laughed a 'ohonhonhon~'. He pushed his way to the front and took Sarah's hand in his. "That would make sense," he grinned, giving the hand a soft kiss. "A handsome man always has equally gorgeous relatives."

David smiled. "Aw, that was sweet of you." He cooed, oblivious to the come-on hidden inside.

His cousin, however, was not. She frowned and yanked her hand away. Cruelly, she huffed, "I'm sorry but I don't like blonds."

"I like blonds," Natalie piped. She released her nose and leaned against Germany, rubbing her hand on his chest. "Especially German ones."

He blushed. "Just because they're related to you does not mean that we can trust them," Germany sternly told David.

The human wasn't listening. As Sarah pried her sister off the German (calling her names that did not fit her cute face), David spotted a crowd of men coming down the hallway. There was less than twenty of them, lightly armed, but ready to fight. David's face lit up and he called, "Charles!" The nations exchanged confused looks as Charles Bright met the Italian half way. They briefly hugged before regarding their situation. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "I thought you-"

Charles, a tall man with thinning dirty blond hair, shook his head. "Why shouldn't I help Patrick's boy?" he asked. "I respected him-" he motioned to the men behind him. "- we all did."

Japan politely pushed himself in front of his comrades. He gave a long, deep bow and greeted: "Hajimemashite. I am Honda Kiku. Who might you be?"

The elder man respectfully gave a short bow in return before grinning and holding out his hand. "Charles Bright of the Conner family," he said. For some odd reason, he had a faint Canadian accent, though years of living in America had drowned it out. "I am a friend of Patrick's."

"Wait a second chaps." Britain pointed an accusing finger at him. "David told me you are-"

"Married to the crazy psycho-path we call Rosa?" The nations took a step back, growing immediately defensive. Charles gave a long sigh. "Have you guys ever heard of an arranged marriage?" He asked. Germany and Britain were the only ones who didn't loosen their stance. "And besides, she has my little kids-" he flashed two pistols for them to see. "-and I want them back."

David gave a look of complete horror. "Caroline and Edward are here?" He demanded.

Before anyone could answer, Hungary called them to her attention. "Where are the guards?" The human knitted his eyebrows together. Where were the guards? He figured that Charles and his men fought them off, but there weren't any signs of a fight.

"I think I found them." France stood at the nearest window, looking out into the courtyard. There was a fight going on. The tall gates were open to reveal a few cars parked a few yards away. People- no, nations -used them as cover as they aimed their guns at the guards lining the wall.

Hungary looked out and gave the smallest of smirks. "I do believe our friends sent us a rescue party," she chuckled.

"Then we'll attack the Parkers from behind," Charles said. "They'll never see it com-"

"Leave." Humans and nations stared at Germany. His voice was low and final. "None of this is your concern. You have to leave now before it's too late."

"You're an idiot," Sarah growled. "We want to be here. If we die, then so what?"

"If you die, you wouldn't come back. We don't stay dead." Charles's men gave shifty glances to each other. It was one thing to believe in a HETA, but to have someone bluntly imply they were? "Leave and saves yourselves."

Charles took a small step forward. "My children," he snapped. "Do you expect me to leave them behind?"

Japan gently placed a supporting hand on the German's shoulder. "I will personally find them and make sure they're safe," he assured. "But Ludwig-san is right: you must leave."

"Go Charles." David gave a large grin. "Patrick wouldn't like if the only sane people in our cult died."

The leader was quiet for a long moment. "Are you okay with that?" He asked at last, addressing his men. Hesitantly, they all agreed. "Please bring my children back." He lead them back down the hallway. Natalie winked and blew Germany a kiss before her sister dragged her away.

The nations were quiet for a long moment. "Stupid git," Britain growled at last. "You are terrible at keeping our secret."

"Well we kind of knew anyways," David said. "So I guess he had the-" He paused, realizing that all eyes were glaring at him. "What?"

Germany pointed down the hall. "I thought you were going to go with them," he said, irritation itching on his eyebrow.

The human laughed. "What? No way am I missing out on this fight." For the smallest moment, his face grew serious. "And besides, there is something I have to do here." David merrily pointed in a direction and headed off that way, saying, "Now let's see if there are any weapons in the armory left."

The nations smacked their foreheads. "Hypocrite," Germany muttered before quickly following him.

* * *

><p><strong>April 3, 1944<strong>

**Two Days Ago**

"Wait, so you're telling me that Britain has gone missing and they're keeping it a secret in order to protect that stupid human?"

". . . Yes . . ."

"Jackasses! That's it! We're going to England."

". . .Are you. . .sure?"

"Evet."

* * *

><p><strong>April 5, 1944<strong>

**Court Yard, Henson Mansion**

"I smell them!" Romania called happily, taking another whiff of the English air. Yes, there it was: the distinct smell of their captured comrades. He wasn't concerned about being hit; he was hiding safely behind a car protected by Spain and Switzerland. Man, was he lucky to have those two nearby. The only down side was that Italy was clinging to the Spaniard's arm, crying out whenever he thought he was in danger (aka: all the time).

Of course, it wasn't all fun and games. The delicious smell of blood was everywhere. Romania was doing his best to keep control of himself. But his pupils were dilated to the max. How long did he have until he snapped and started drinking every one's blood?

Spain gave him a hopeful look. "Really?" he exclaimed. "Where are they?"

"First floor-" The vampire took another sniff. "-though by the way the sent is scattered, they're moving fast."

Switzerland scowled and reloaded his gun. "Moving fast?" he repeated. "What the hell are they do-" He yelled as a bullet pierced his shoulder. His gloved hand gripped his bleeding wound as he sunk to his knees.

The two Mediterraneans abandoned their fight and joined him behind cover. "Vee~ Are you alright?" Italy asked, looking at the wound with teary eyes. "Are you infected with the poison?"

Switzerland dug his finger into the wound and pulled the bullet out. "No," He gasped. "I can feel my muscles healing." He took a long breath. "Where did Romania go?"

Romania had snapped at the nation's blood. He jumped over the car and dashed across the battle field, hitting anyone who got in his way. There were two scents that he craved: Hungary's and that human he killed a few days ago. What was his name?

Either way, both were inside. The blond kicked the front door open and scrambled inside. Both the scents were strong: black and white. Where were they...?

White came closer and he ran to meet it. Romania's feet clicked loudly on the marble floors. He slipped once or twice, but it did not dim his savage need for blood. He paused. Wait, there were other scents as well.

As he stood smelling the air, somebody came behind him and roughly restrained him. "Good job comrade," Russia said cheerfully as his group of nations stormed the inside. "You cleared the way for us." The other said nothing; only struggling wildly in his grasp.

The Parker men retreated to the back side of the mansion and started to storm in from the back entrances. The battle was now in confined space. It was an advantage as much as it was a disadvantage.

The larger man sighed. "It looks as though I'm going to have to hold you here until you calm down." After a minute, he barked, "Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia. Get me the world powers and some cover, da?"

* * *

><p><strong>April 5, 1944<strong>

**The London Country Side**

What used to be my father's mansion came into clear view. I pulled over to the side of the road and turned off the ignition. "The battle already started," I muttered. A sick feeling rooted itself in my stomach. The wind carried the faint cries of guns and men to my ear. It sent shivers down my spine.

Gilbert and Arsenius climbed out of the car. The Prussian stretched his arm and huffed, "If the awesome me would have drove, then we would have gotten here sooner."

"Well if you drove then the car would have caught on fire," I snapped in reply. "Again." He shrugged it off. Giving a groan, I started to lead both men to my old home. If we came by car, then we would be easily spotted by the enemy. Or Alfred with a sniper rifle. Both were pretty bad.

"Wait." We paused and turned to face Arsenius. The empire was (for once) frowning deeply. "This is as far as I can go," he said. "You must go on without me." Damn, I thought he'll at least get closer to the mansion before abandoning us. "Annie, since you know the truth now, I will not come to save you," he added. "You are on your own."

I gripped the butt of my pistol. "That's fine," I said casually. "Though there is one thing. . ." I raised the weapon at them. Both men jumped before raising their hands up in defeat. I glared at them both. I didn't want to be the nefarious one here, but they left me with no choice. "Tell me, what is the truth?" I snarled. "What really happened when my mom died?"

Gilbert scowled. "We. Don't. Know." He pronounced it clearly to me. "And why are you pointing that thing at us? I'm so awesome; I'll just come back to life when you shoot me."

"Yes but you will die." I cocked the gun for emphasis. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but it's really painful to die. I'll shoot you both over and over again until I run out of bullets. Then I'll strangle to air out of you. And when it all comes to it, I kill myself."

It was silent for a long moment. Red eyes glared at me as the Prussian smirked. "Do your worst," he dared. I aimed and shot my Great-Grandfather between the legs. Cursing in Italian, Arsenius's knees buckled and his hands covered the wounded area.

I would like to take a moment to say that if you ever get into a situation like this one, it is completely okay to play dirty like that. However, if you're playing a game or just having a few laughs, have some humanity and avoid the family jewels. Thank you.

The other nation gained the most horrified look on his face. "Not awesome," he exclaimed, placing a protective hand over his own. "Don't you dare kill my five meters."

The empire finished healing himself and stood upright. The only sign of there being an injury was a giant hole in his pants. I could only presume that empires healed faster- much faster -than their nation counter parts. I shrugged and aimed at Gilbert's . . . crotch (how can he have five meters? I don't think anything that big could fit into an average pair of trousers). "Too bad," I said. "I guess you'll have to spend the rest of your immortal life dealing with nothing in your pants." That was awkward to say.

With haste, the nation raised his hands in surrender. "Fine! Fine!" he yelled loudly. "We'll tell you!"

I smirked, but did not lower the gun. "You have five minutes," I said.

Arsenius placed a commanding hand on the underling's shoulder. I could tell by his tone that he didn't like this one bit. "I'll start and East Germany will finish," he said. There was a short pause as he struggled to remember the incident in detail. "It all started a few days before the incident. . ."

* * *

><p><strong>Late Summer of 1927<strong>

"What is this?" Roman Empire asked, holding the vile to the light. It was dark; like blood. As great as he was, he didn't understand why China would ask to meet him and the other ancient civilizations at a fancy restaurant in his homeland.

The Asian sighed. "It's my mistake- aru," he explained. "I tried to find a way to end a nation's life and created something much worse. I do not know how to destroy it, so can you keep it safe- aru?"

He smiled and wrapped an arm around the nation. "For an old friend like you, I don't see why not," he said cheerfully.

China gave a soft smile. "Thank you-aru." He gave a low bow and left. He was as old as Rome himself, yet he insisted to treat the latter as a superior. The empire didn't understand why- in his eyes, they were equals. Well, as equal as someone as average as him can be to someone as great as himself.

Rome turned and rejoined the other nations. They had reserved a private dining room. The walls were painted a vibrant red and the dark table stretched from one end to another. Every spot but the head- his own -was filled. He took his seat and handed the vile to the dark-skinned Ancient Egypt. "Do you know what this is?" he asked.

The woman held it a foot length away, swirling it. "I don't know," she replied. "I've never seen it before."

The Ancient Celtic Islands took it from here. "I sense no magic in it," she said, green eyes peering from behind long red hair. "Perhaps it's a poison."

A brawny blond huffed. "Why would China make a poison?" Ancient Scandinavia demanded. "It's not like him to do something like that."

Rome shrugged. "I do not know, though he did say that it would kill a nation."

The table stiffened. Native America frowned as she ran a hand along a shell necklace her grandson, America, made for her long ago. "Did he really say that?" she asked worried.

"Well he more like implied it, but I think it's what it does."

Aztec Empire's gold jewelry jingled as he rubbed the woman's back in comfort. "Well good for China," he said. "It's about time one of those nations did something worthwhile."

"Excuse me?" Ancient Greece threw a knife at him. It embedded into Aztec's chest. Without a second thought, he pulled it out of his chest. If a waiter had been watching, they would have noticed the wound heal immediately. "What are you implying savage?" she growled, her brown hair disheveled.

"Savage?" Aztec's twin brother, Inca Empire, snapped. "You're the one who played games naked."

Greece laughed coldly. "And you ripped out people's hearts for the sun gods."

"Aztec did that! Not me!"

"Is there a difference?"

"Would everybody shut up!" The table turned to a man dressed in a thick black coat. He looked to be the youngest there- barely scrapping out of his teens. His voice was strict and demanding as frustration knitted his eyebrows. "What happened in the past cannot be changed not should it affect our problems now. What we need to do is focus on how this will affect the nations. The nations look to us for guidance and inspiration. If we let anything bad happen to them, then we'll also be betraying ourselves. So I suggest be get back on topic, stop all chit-chatty side deals and find out what we should do."

All but the man burst into a fit of laughter. "Geezes kid, you're so stuck up," Ancient Egypt laughed. "You need to loosen up a bit."

"I agree with you there," Aztec smiled. "You take everything so seriously Holy Rome."

The Holy Roman Empire gripped the table cloth as he tried not to lash out. These people . . . didn't they understand what was at stake here? What if the wrong people got their hands on that vile? Italy, Hungary, even Austria, could get hurt. Why couldn't they see that?

He felt his Opa place a strong hand on his shoulder. Germania eased him back into his seat. "Let me handle this," he said. The grandson nodded. The blond smoothed a bit of his blond hair and turned to Rome. Crystal blue eyes glared at him. "Hey Rome, I need to ask you something."

The empire took his concentration off of Ancient Greece's chest and looked at his old friend. "Si?"

"I heard one of your grandsons had another bastard child who married one of Gaul's boy's bastards." He drummed his fingers on the table. "I believe you're grandson is responsible to handle this situation."

"Why?" Rome whined. "I highly doubt that a half blood is going to cause any problems for us. And I highly doubt my precious Veneziano and Romano would want to kill their own blood."

The table groaned. They all either muttered something about how their 'leader' was so irresponsible or how he under-estimates his descendants. Why did they listen to him in the first place? Holy Rome saw his opportunity and raised his hand high in the air. "I'll handle it for them," he offered.

The elder gave a sigh of relief. "Grazie, Holy Rome," he said. He started to ramble about how he was so great; the empire must have a hard time dealing with it. Just as the blond started to tune his voice out, he tossed him the vile. "You can also take care of this, si? I believe that you'll be the best qualified."

"Thank you sir," Holy Rome said as Byzantine Empire muttered something about how he was such a kiss-up. He ignored his life time enemy- now he had the chance to protect his precious Italy. Italy, she . . . actually he. That was right, Italy was a boy. At times, he couldn't believe it. But he hadn't seen the nation in a very, very long time. Even so, Holy Rome had to protect him. If that meant he had to quickly end someone's life, then so be it.

Anything for Italy.

He rose quickly, ready to jump into his mission. "What's the bastard's name?" he asked eagerly.

Rome drummed his fingers absentmindedly. "I think Mia Something Jetson," he said. "Or maybe it was Henson. Something along those lines. . ." He paused when the German left the room. A few second later, he realized his mistake. "Wait!" The empire called out, rising in his seat. "That's the mother's name! The bastard is one of her children!" There came no reply.

Giving a shrug, he peacefully took his seat "I bet he heard me," he told the table. The words were more to convince himself. And he did.

* * *

><p>Of course, he could not do this by himself. Holy Rome wanted a little help, though in truth, he just wanted to see his little brother again. Prussia had- of course -been a little shocked to see him alive, but he quickly agreed to participate in a little 'awesome family bonding time'.<p>

"You should see him bruder," the Prussian was saying as he finished his meal. It was an hour before they went through with the plan and they were discussing a few details over pasta. As far as they knew, they were just going to kill off a half blood. Holy Rome had walked around town earlier and found a woman resembling one of the Italy brothers cooking a meal for her two children. "Germany has gotten so big and powerful and awesome now! You should meet him someday!"

Holy Rome picked at his noodles unhappily. Italian food always reminded him of his lover. "Maybe one day I will," he said absently.

Prussia didn't notice and continued his story about how Germany had to explain to Italy what BMS was. In a way, Holy Rome was a little jealous. His little brother was spending so much time with Italy, anyone could possibly mistake them for lovers. But Italy wouldn't do that to him. She- he meant 'he' -was sweet, innocent, and kind. He is stilling waiting for him to come home.

Right?

After their meal, they returned to the house the woman lived at. The upstairs light was on and he could hear screaming. Not good. Holy Rome pointed to a building nearby and ordered, "Stake out the point there. If something goes wrong, don't be hesitant to fire."

Prussia hefted his long range rifle onto his shoulder. "The awesome me would be happy to." He marched off to do was he was told.

Holy Rome sighed and was about to walk to the front door when he saw the woman leave in an angry rushed. She could definitely be a half blood- she looked like a female version of Italy's older brother; minus the one defiant curl. "Hey!" He called in Italian, running up to her. When she paused, he quickly asked, "What is your name?"

She gave him a crazy look. "Why the hell will I tell you?" she demanded, taking a few steps back. It seemed as though she acted a lot like him as well. That was not an odd sign; half bloods had a tendency to harbor similar personalities to their parent nations. Mia must be Romano's bastard, not Italy.

"_So he stayed faithful,_" The Empire thought wistfully. After a short moment of swimming in his relief, he grabbed the human's arm. "I should know who I'm about to kill." He said it as gently as he could. If he was going to kill someone, he wanted the person to know it was coming. Plus, the line Prussia had given him sounded (as the kids are saying it nowadays) badass.

The woman's eyes went wide and she immediately went in for a punch. "Release me you fucking bastard!" she yelled. Holy Rome held her in place as he tried to reach for his own gun. Right now would have been a great time for his little bruder to fire his gun. Where was he?

"Mia!" Another man came running from the house. He was armed with a simple pistol. For some reason, he looked a little bit like a mixture between Britain and someone he'd rather not think about. But maybe it was just the thick eyebrows- this guy couldn't also be a descendant from a nation. The man aimed his gun at him, saying, "I am Patrick Henson, son of Noah Henson, head of the Henson family. What do you want?"

Now Holy Rome was really confused. He released Mia and gave him a crazy look. "What are you talking about?"

Mia gave her husband a confused look. She took a step closer to him, but remained a safe distance away from both of them. This was her opportunity to learn what he husband had been doing.

Patrick glared and growled, "You know perfectly well what I am talking about."

Now we must take a step back and learn where Prussia was during all of this. Climbing onto a roof with a large gun was actually harder than it looked. By the time he had his weapon set-up, he realized that his older brother was in danger. Some crazy human was pointing a gun at him.

The blond aimed carefully, adjusting the gun to the side to fire at the man. The moonlight glinted off the gun and drew Mia's attention. She didn't know much about fighting or war, but she knew trouble when she saw it.

Wordlessly, she moved in front of Patrick as Holy Rome raised his own gun and Prussia fired his. The bullet entered her head cleanly; giving her a split second to grab what she thought was empire's neck and fall onto the sand. Her hand instead gripped Holy Rome's Iron Cross, breaking the chain.

The three men heard a shriek ring throughout the air. All of them turned to see a little girl looking terrified as she stared at her mother. Patrick felt a rush of panic flow through him. What was Annie doing out here?

Prussia felt painful guilt. A little girl? Why would a little girl be out here? Quickly, he abandoned his gun and started to make his way off the roof. He was going to be awesome and stop this fight.

Holy Rome felt the dread as her face shone clearly in the moonlight. She looked a lot like his precious Italy. There was also something else about her, something inhuman. Something nation-like. She was the half-blood, not the woman.

The father gained his senses first and told his daughter to run. Wordlessly, Holy Rome started to stride to her. He has to kill the child. He didn't want to, but he promised Italy's grandfather that he would.

As he grew closer, Annie gained some sudden burst of courage and stepped forward, holding her hands out. It was almost as if she was protecting something. The stubborn look on her face was clear. If she had been smiling, Holy Rome would have thought she was his little Italy.

Sudden his world blacked out as Patrick fired three shots into Holy Rome's head. Prussia left the gun on the roof and jumped off the building and rolled on his back. He paused hearing the shots. Who was dead? He peeked around the corner and saw his older brother on the ground.

Shit. Not awesome.

The Prussian did not have another gun on him. What was he going to do? He didn't have to worry for long. A few seconds later, Holy Rome lifted his head off the ground. He couldn't help but to grin- empires always did have a higher healing rate than countries.

Holy Rome looked up at the terrified girl and for a split second saw Italy staring down at him. He couldn't do it; she looked too much like Italy. He couldn't kill her. He'll have to go back and report his failure to the other ancients. All of them, especially Byzantine, would mock him for being weak.

He placed an arm on her shoulder and heaved himself off the ground. Looking past her, he saw Prussia hiding in the alley. Nodding to him, he dashed past her and dodged more bullets as Patrick continued to fire. He paused in the alley and took a moment to catch his breath. Distantly, the younger brother was asking what had happened.

He failed.

He ficken failed.

Holy Rome just wanted to wait for the shame to leave him completely.

But they didn't have time to wait.

"Run," Holy Rome ordered. He heard more gun shots behind him. "I'll lead them away and meet up with you later."

Prussia shook his head. "Nein. I've spent years thinking you were dead," he said. "I'm not leaving you now." The older brother admired him greatly- his stubbornness was very amiable. But at that moment, he was not concerned with chivalry.

"Listen to me!" Holy Rome gripped his shoulders and shook him lightly. "You have to go home and tell Germany that I'm coming, okay? Gather as much beer and wurst as you want and when I come, we'll have that awesome family reunion you always wanted. Got it?"

For a second, the younger nation looked ready to object. But there was something in the other's blue eyes that told him to listen. "You better come," he ordered. "Promise?"

The blue eyed empire sighed. "Promise." Hesitantly, Prussia ran away. He watched him go before turning in the opposite direction.

That was the last time Prussia saw Holy Rome. He hijacked a car and drove to West's house. Surprisingly, he wasn't home. He took out the beer and cooked the wurst. By the time noon came, the nation fell asleep on the couch, just to be awakened an hour later. "Holy Rome?" he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

There was a long sigh. "Nein. It's me, bruder."

Prussia sighed and sat-up. Germany did not look so well. His blond hair was messy and it seemed as though he had a huge hangover. "I could have sworn. . . Is he here?"

The younger blond sighed. "Who is?"

"Holy Rome. He said he was-"

"He's dead." Germany took a seat on the couch next to him. The frustration and exhaustion mixed in his voice perfectly. The bitterness was expected. The first time Opa had introduced the brother to him; Prussia had hugged him tightly and called him Holy Rome. "He's been dead since the Napoleonic wars. France killed him, remember?"

At that moment, the platinum blond had the choice of telling his younger brother about everything. But he didn't. In his sleepy state, he thought how hilarious Germany would look seeing the empire at his front door. Then they'll have their party and they'll all have an awesome time.

* * *

><p><strong>April 5, 1944<strong>

** London Countryside**

". . . but I never saw him again." Gilbert ended on a low note, looking at the ground with sorrow. We were both silent for a long moment. My gun was still aimed at him, though it shook slightly in my hands. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times. He stared to apologize. "Look Annie, I didn't know-" I took little aim before firing at his feet. He jumped to the side and gave me a crazed look. "What the hell?" he shouted. "What was that for?"

I gave a low chuckle. Both of the men's eyes went wide when I started to roar with laughter. "It was you," I breathed, gasping for air. "All this time I thought it was Ludwig, but all along it was you!"

Arsenius raised an eyebrow. He was rather calm considering the situation at hand. "Are you alright?" he asked. "You seem a bit-"

I grinned broadly. "Crazy?" Another laugh left my lips. My knees buckled and I dropped my gun in favor of grasping my sides. "I know! It's just that-" Tears fell from my eyes. "-All this time this idiot was the one who killed my mom." The mirth never left my voice. "And now I'm going to have to kill you Gilbert."

Something I said caused the Prussian to snap. Growling, he marched up to me and slapped me across the face. "Get a hold of yourself!" He demanded. "You're going to go crazy!"

"Why would you care?" I giggled incessantly. "I thought the Great Kingdom of Prussia only cared about his awesome self." Another slap met my cheek. And another. Three times he hit me across my face. The high mirth left me completely as I felt the red sting on my skin. I looked down as more tears left my eyes. Sorrow was the only thing left in me.

The nation roughly grabbed my collar and lifted me close to him. "Going insane is not awesome!" Gilbert yelled.

For a moment, all three of us were silent. Arsenius scrutinized our situation before nodding in approval. He must had thought the Prussia was handling the situation correctly (or he just didn't want to deal with this) since he vanished like the wind- gone. The two of us were left to stare at each other. I expected him to say something else and he expected me to laugh again.

In a whisper, I spoke. "Insanity is doing something over and over again and expecting a different result each time," I said. "Every time one of you people are around, something bad happens to me and the people I love." My blue eyes challenged his red ones. "So tell me: Why am I still here?"

"Every time you're around, something bad happens to one of us." Gilbert replied evenly as the corners of his lips danced into a smirk. "So tell the awesome me: Why do we keep you around?" I gaped at him. "We're all mad here, but that's just what makes us awesome."

He released me in favor of picking my abandon gun up off the ground. He either trusted me or was dumber than he seemed since he handed it back to me. "So if you want to kill the awesome me a few times, that's fine," he said. "Just do it awesomely."

I took the gun from him and observed it carefully. It was cold and hard- like stone. In a strange metaphorical sense, it was what my heart felt like. My whole life, I used violence as a way to solve every single problem I had. Everything from defeating my dad to earning extra money. How did that make me any different from the monsters I was taught to hate my whole life?

Anonymous once said that it was harder to forgive than to fight. Perhaps he wasn't just a weakling with no will to rebel. Maybe there was some truth to what he said. Cleanly, I placed it back in its holster. "I need to save my bullets," I said. "Awesome people don't run out of ammo during a fight."

The Prussian smiled and pointed to my family's mansion. "Lead the way."

I stared to walk away, but paused for a single moment. "Prussia."

"Hm?"

"I forgive you."

He grinned at me. "Awesome."

We walked in silence. If we created too much noise, then someone might hear us coming. With this in mind, I kept all my thoughts to myself. I couldn't keep Holy Rome out of my head. He appeared one day and was gone the next. Gilbert hadn't heard from him in over two decades. And he had the vile of poison.

"_Maybe that is how the Parkers got the poison_," I realized. "_They took it from Holy Rome."_ We were only a short length away. It was possible- if they had a base, they could easily figure out the basic chemical make-up and recreate it. But that still leaves the question of the blood and where the older brother went. Unless, of course, they not only took it from him, but also held the empire captive.

The very thought was awful. To be imprisoned for twenty years and never knowing if your sibling made it out alive. It was terrible. I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone- even Ludwig.

But at least there was a brighter side, Prussia never said he saw David on the beach. Now that I thought about it, no one seemed to notice that my brother has been involved in this completely. That was absolutely perfect.

The iron front gate was wide open, welcoming Gilbert and I into the court yard. Bullet riddled cars were scattered about like a makeshift citadel. There was the occasional body, but no sign on a single country.

The fight had move elsewhere. By the sound coming from the mansion itself, I'll say it was in there. We exchanged glances and gave each other a long nod before strutting in purposely.

It would have been my preference to have remained quiet and scout out our allies that were taking action. That, however, was not the nation's. "The awesome me is here to save the day!" He declared, passing through the large doorway with pride. His guns weren't even drawn.

I hid behind the door's thick wood, anticipating a shower of bullets. That, luckily, was not the case. Instead, he was met with a chorus of groans and Alfred snapping, "I'm the hero, so I get to save the day!" I released a breath I never knew I was holding. Good.

"Come on guys!" Gilbert moaned. "We came all this way and you wouldn't give us an awesome greeting?"

"We?" By the sound of it, Antonio was the one speaking. "Prussia, there's only you."

The Prussian looked back at me and saw me hiding. "Hold on." He marched over and pulled me out into the open. Feli, Antonio, Alfred, and Vladimir were hiding behind a long, mahogany dining table. The occasional bullet was easily stopped by it. The fighting seemed to have been mostly going on in the hallways and ballroom- not the lobby. "See! The awesome me brought the human!" He perked up and pushed me closer to the men.

Antonio was switching between comforting a panicky Feli and holding a snapped vampire to the ground. Alfred was firing random shots in the fight's general direction- like a hero. Gilbert and I huddled next to him and the Italian immediately latching himself onto me. "What are you doing here?" Alfred asked, purposely cleaning his gun. "We told you to stay behind."

Antonio nodded in agreement. "Si. We don't want you going crazy or something."

Before I could shoot a look that read 'keep your mouth shut', the platinum blond laughed a 'kesesese~' "That already happened," he said. The men gave me a look of horror "But the awesome me was able to bring her back to her awesome senses. Which reminds me-" He peeled the smaller man off of him and grinned broadly. "Guess what! Annie is your bruder's granddaughter! Isn't that awesome?"

"WHAT?" As Feli gave me a large bear hug, the Spaniard and American gave me shocked looks. The two pointed and stared at me, piecing the pieces together.

Antonio started: "Don't tell me..."

Alfred added: "You're a..."

And they chorused: "You're a half blood?"

The blond jumped into the air and gave an overly exaggerated fist pump. "Hell yeah!" he yelled. "That is so cool! Do you have any special abilities?"

Before I could give a reply, another irritated voice rang throughout the foyer. "What the hell are you gits talking about?" I smiled when I saw Arthur, Francis, Kiku, and Elizaveta exit one of the halls and rush to over cover. Besides a few cuts, they all looked to be in a good condition. They all carried a gun of a sort, though Kiku was happily wielding his katana. For some reason, Ludwig was not among them.

I exchanged greetings with them all, whispering something about the joy of them being safe. Meanwhile, the younger brother grinned. "Dude, Annie is a-"

"The Kid is a what?" My smile grew when I saw David dashing to cover. So they decided to trust him. "Because I swear, if you guys are talking shit-" Careful to avoid the cast on his arm, I gave him a big hug. He paused and looked down at me, shock written on his face. Some of the nations (mainly Gilbert) pointed their weapons at him, questioning his presence. However, Kiku quickly came to the rescue and explained all of the good he has done so far.

As I snuggled closer to his chest, he evidently decided to ruin the mood. "Did I miss something since you never hug me, unless-" He pushed me off and gripped one of my shoulders. "Who are you and what did you do to Annie?"

"This is my thank you," I grumbled. "For protecting me when Dad couldn't."

My brother was silent. Next, he spoke so softly, I could barely hear him over the distant fighting and the unaware nations. "Kid, did you find out? About everything?" he asked.

"Yes." He held me closer and we enjoyed each other's comfort or a moment longer. I still didn't trust him completely, but at that moment, he was the only thing I had left.

When I could feel the curious looks of the nations on my back, I took my chance to ask David my extremely important question. If he confirmed my suspicions, then I may know exactly what Dad's plan was. My hands cupped his cheeks and I pointed his face down towards mine. The look in my eyes was a mixture of being serious and meaningful. "David, I have a very important question to ask you," I said, pouting ever so slightly.

I could literally feel Francis Bonnefoy shift his immediate attention onto us."Ohonhonhonhon~ Incest~" he sang, paying attention to the slightest of details. Arthur groaned and hit him in disgust.

My brother acted with the mood, combing my short hair with his fingers. "Anything Kid."

Taking a deep breath, I gazed into his eyes. "David, do you. . ." I paused. I hope he answers accordingly. "Do you trim your eyebrows?"

Alfred and Gilbert burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter as nearly everyone else groaned. "Trim my eyebrows? Of course not!" David gave me an unbelieving look. "Why?" He ran a finger over the hairs. "Do you think they look too British?" My heart dropped. He doesn't? That means that he didn't inherit any of Arthur's genes. That meant that the Brit wasn't our other ancestor.

That left the question: who was?

"Do you have a problem being British?" Arthur demanded, furrowing his features in anger.

The brunette nodded happily. "Yes I do. Brits are so boring and dreary and don't know how to have a good time."

Francis smiled in triumph. "See mon Angleterre?" He asked, pointing to the human. "You really do need to lighten up."

"Lighten up about what?" We all flinched as Ivan and Yao jumped over our cover and squatted next to us. The elder nation looked beaten though his lover looked as though he was having the time of his life. He smiled at us, violet eyes closed with mirth. "What are you all doing here comrades?" he asked, his aura darkening. "I thought we were all supposed to be fighting."

Kiku opened his mouth, trying to explain what had been going on when Yao jumped into a new set of orders. "America, Italy, and Spain, you all look as though you can fight- aru," he said. He pointed up the stairs to the second story. "The upstairs in empty as far as I know and so is the basement-"

"We just came from there," Elizaveta said, her usual affectionate aura gone. Her face was drawn serious, like a soldier that has seen too many wars. In fact, most of their faces were painted like so. "It's empty save for the occasional straggler."

Yao nodded in appreciation. "Good," he said. "The main fights are in the back halls leading to the back yard and the ball room- aru. Go now."

Alfred checked his guns for ammo before sliding over to his Asian lover. Carefully, he brushed his lips against Kiku's, stroking the black head of hair gently. "I'm gonna get my revenge," he said. "I'll be back." He sprinted into the hallways before he could say anything.

"Revenge?" Kiku repeated, a thoughtful hand over his lips. "What is America-san talking about?"

"_He's talking about Rodger_," I realized, seeing the images of the Christmas party behind my eyes. I remember the hurt, angry look in the American's blue eyes as he saw the blond cut open his lover's body.

Antonio and Feli (mostly Feli) were hesitant, but eventually left. They muttered something about 'good luck' to us before running to their own fights. Kiku and Elizaveta were being interrogated by Gilbert about the location of his brother. David and Francis teamed up to joke and laugh at Arthur. Yao and Ivan were staring at me.

"'My brother's plan,'" I quoted, buying both the men's attention. "How were you able to figure it out?"

They exchanged humored looks and soft grins. The Chinese nation looked me straight in the eyes and folded his hands neatly on his lap. "You mean your heritage- aru?" he asked, doing his best not to smirk.

I gave a long nod. "Exactly that. How did you two figure it out?" I paused. "And why did you keep it a secret?"

Yao took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I realized that you were a half blood the moment I met you- aru," he explained. "If you've lived as long as I have then you would realize that looking so distinctly similar to a nation is no coincidence."

"Da." Ivan held his pipe in his hand, using the ends of his brown coat to clean off some of the blood. "Remember the night when your brother and his lackey took us hostage?" I nodded, wondering where he was going with this. "When they released us, I asked the lackey why he would do such a thing. His response was your brother 'just loves his sister'. Naturally, I was rather confused, until I saw Romano. I placed together what I knew and realized that there was a plan going on."

The Russian met eyes with Yao and he smiled. "When I brought my speculations to China, he told me about your lineage. From there it was quite easy, da?"

I bit my lip. No, that was not a 'da'. That still left many questions in my head. "But Yao, you told me that half bloods are rare," I said. "I could have the genes but not the abilities that go with them. How did you know about my-"

"We didn't- aru. We merely presumed that you had some mutation." Yao absentmindedly twirled the end of his pony tail between his fingers. "Are you admitting to having an mutation- aru?"

I shook my head. "No, it's just that. . ." I trailed off. The French nation was still harassing his blond enemy and my brother was still joyfully aiding him. The two were laughing as Arthur was scowling and threatening to kill them if they didn't 'sod off'. "'Never presume anything about anyone,'" I quoted, concentrating on both the men's exultant blue eyes. Yao and Ivan exchanged confused looks. "'Presuming leads to misunderstandings and misunderstandings lead to trouble and loneliness-' Of course!" I yelled the last part as the excitement boiled over. That was the answer! Why didn't I see it before?

"Annie, what are you-" Before the Asian could finish, I ran to the perverted blond.

"Francis!" He looked at me, curious, yet happy to see me. Firmly believing that I was stopping the harassment, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

"Annie~" Francis sang, ready to lay a dirty hand where they shouldn't go. "What can I do for you?" David muttered something about standing at least six feet away from my personal bubble. Aw, isn't he such a good brother?

Giving him a dead serious look, I asked, "Do you have your conquer list on hand?"

He gave me a dead confuse look. "ma chère, why would you want to look through that?" he asked, a suggestive tone in his voice. David asked Arthur what a 'conquer list' was, causing the nation to smack his forehead. Francis reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small, yet thick book. "This one is for the 19th to 20th centuries," he said handing it to me. "Why do you need this?"

Never mind the fact that he carried something like this around with him. I opened the book and found the smallest print I've ever seen. This was going to take awhile, and in the end, I could still be wrong. "Oh, no reason," I said. Leaving him with that, I took a seat against the table and flipped to the first page. I scanned the names, looking for any that tickled familiarly.

Engrossed in the book, I barely noticed Yao and Elizaveta deciding to join the fight themselves. After swatting away my flirtatious brother, the girl patted my head before entering the line of fire. Ivan concentrated on subduing Vladimir. The blond was thrashing around under his grasp. "What are you looking for?" Arthur asked, taking a seat next to me.

I looked up. Should I explain it to him? By now, the whole world must have known my lineage, so I guessed it really didn't matter. I explained to Arthur my status of half blood. He nodded in appreciation, thought didn't comment on it. "But that leaves the question of who is the other ancestor," I said, turning the page in Francis's book. "At first I thought it was you, but then I realized that neither David nor I had any of your attributes."

"Is that a good thing?" The Brit asked, attempting his own little joke.

I smirked. "Depends on how you looked at it." I flipped to another page and continued with my explanation: "Then I realized that David and I both have blues eyes and who else has blue eyes? Francis."

His eyes went wide with shock. His gaze shifted between the nation and me, trying to make sense of what I just said. "But you're nothing like that damn frog!" he objected, keeping his voice low enough for only me to hear.

"I don't need to be." I pointed to my brother. "David, however, if very much like Francis in his own way."

Cue the eye-roll. "How?"

"They both hate Brits and both flirt with a lot of women."

He groaned. "That still leaves one little hole: you don't have any of France's characteristics!"

Didn't I just explain to him that it wasn't necessary? I opened my mouth, ready to repeat myself, when the very French man we were talking about exclaimed, "Mon Dieu! Canada! What happened?"

Matthew came running from the fight. He was covered with cuts and bruises, though the most distinct was a bullet wound in his leg. His polar bear was riding on the man's back, unaware of the difficulty he was facing moving alone. Kiku and Francis left the safety of our shelter and met him half way. A bullet grazed the Asian's cheek as they carried him to us.

"Canada, what happened?" Arthur asked, turning to a caring brother figure. Ivan and the others gazed worriedly at the injury, wonder what happened.

The blond panted for a few moments longer, but said at last, "I was fighting and some guy shot my leg." He took another breath. "The bullet was lined with the poison. I can't feel my leg healing."

The nations exchanged looks of horror. "Did you tell anyone about this?'" Gilbert asked, having more sense than the others for once.

Matthew shook his head. "No. I-" he winced. "I heard a man saying something about children being here. I thought maybe America could rescue them so I came here first. Where is my brother anyways?"

"America-san went into the fight a little while ago," Kiku said. "Though-"

"Wait." The Asian looked at David. There was a stressed look on his face. "Did you say children?"

The nation (whatever his name was) nodded. "Yes. On the second story, why?"

"Caroline and Edward," I muttered. My eyes went wide. "They're here?"

Kiku nodded. "Hai. They are. I promised their father that I would find them." Wait, when was Charles here? I guess I wasn't important enough to be informed of any of this.

"And that is what you'll do." David stood and pulled the other to his feet. "If we find the kids, then we find Rosa," he said. He loaded his gun and looked at the staircase. "And that is something I must take care of."

I stood. "I'll come with you," I said.

My brother shook his head and placed both hands on my shoulders. "No, you can't," he said. "I promised Dad that I'll take care of you and damnit! That is what I'm going to do!" I was ready to object, but Dad's letter came to mind. He advised me to obey my sibling's orders, no matter what.

Giving a frown, I grumbled an agreement. I watched as David and Kiku left us the stairs to rejoin the hunt down their targets. I hope they find them, I really do.

Francis kissed his son's forehead and stood to his feet. "I'll tell the others of the poison," he said, sounding serious for once. Arthur was quick to join him, saying how he was going to do a terrible job of it. Receiving Ivan's permission, they left and entered the fight- one down the hall and the other to the ballroom.

That left me with Gilbert, Ivan, Vladimir, and a blond I couldn't place the name of. For a minute, I tried to return to the book, searching for my family's name, Gilbert was readying his gun, saying how the 'awesome me' was going to join the fight.

"That's odd." We paused and looked down at Ivan's hostage. The Romanian was still in his blood induced craze, however, it seemed as though he was having a moment of semi-lucidity.

Ivan chuckled, somehow finding the blond humorous. "What is comrade?" he asked, loosening his hold ever so slightly.

"I smell a nation- or something better than us -below us."

Gilbert gave an odd look. "Below us?" he repeated. "What do you mean by that?"

"He means the basement," I said, folding the corner of the book's page. I placed it in my coat pocket and pulled out my gun. "Though that doesn't make sense, everyone escaped from there."

"Not Germany," Ivan said. "I haven't seen him yet."

The nation's elder brother stood. "Let's go then," he said. "I have to find my bruder."

"I'm coming too," I said, rising to my feet. "And don't you dare say I can't."

The Prussian gave me the biggest grin. "Did the awesome me ever say you couldn't?"

* * *

><p>David was- much to Japan's secret relief -dead silent. He moved just as silently as he did, their feet barely brushing the carpet. The nation was impressed- who knew such a loud person could stay quiet for so long? The upstairs was eerily deserted. Each time they turned the corner, they saw the same empty image.<p>

They silently opened each door as they came upon it. Every room was as empty as the hallway. "Something isn't not right Rossi-san," Japan said, as they closed the door to another disappointment. "Maybe we should go back-"

The human kicked open a door in frustration. "She's here," he growled, frowning at another lonely room. "She has to be."

That was odd. It seemed to the Asian that he wasn't even concerned about the children anymore. The glint in his eyes was full of rage and anger. This man wanted blood and he was going to get it.

Doing his best to be polite, Japan gently suggested they retreat. "Not yet," the other said. David kicked the next door down the line. This time, he was not met with disappointment. His serious expression changed into instant relief and love. Pocketing his gun, he knelt onto a knee and flew his hands outward. "Caroline!" he called. "Edward!"

"Uncle David!" The two children ran into his arms, calling out his name and nuzzling his neck. Japan smiled softly before glancing into a room. It looked to be a guest chamber. The occasional toy was laid out on the ground. Obviously, the two of them were in the middle of a game. He got to work scouring the room, checking for any traps or spies.

He was surprise to find none. "_Why leave the children in here, but set no traps,_" the nation wondered. He lightly kicked aside a doll dressed as a fairy. "_At least I fulfilled my promise to Bright-san."_ He finished with his scouting of the area and returned to the family reunion.

David kissed his niece and nephew's head greedily, praising them for being such cute children. At last, he broke away and looked them in the eye. "What are you doing here?" he asked. Taking a minute to consider his words, he quickly added, "And in such a boring place? Why didn't you go outside?" And discover a battle field?

Caroline, being the loquacious one, eagerly explained. "Mum said that there was a boring adult party going on," she said, smiling brightly. "We were supposed to stay in here until she came to get us."

The uncle thanked the Lord for the children's obedience. "Well the party is still going on," he said, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. His voice was gentle, yet controlling. "And your mother still wants you to stay in here. However-" David grinned and outstretched a hand towards Japan. "-Mr. Honda here is going to play with you."

The nation's jaw dropped in the most indecorous way. He stuttered over his words before saying at last, "But Rossi-san, are you sure that-"

"Well we don't want them getting too close to the booze." He winked. "If you get what I mean."

Unfortunately, he did. Caroline and Edward couldn't leave the safety of the room without running into a fight. Slowly, Japan gave a low bow. "I would be honor to play with Caroline-san and Edward-san," he said.

David smiled and kissed the top of their heads. "Be good and listen to him," he ordered. Rising to his feet, he ushered the three into the guest room. "I'll be back, okay?"

"Okay Uncle," Caroline shouted as Edward mumbled. He smiled again before letting the nation close the door.

Japan was not sure if this was the best of ideas, but he did not want to impose on anyone. And besides, how hard could keeping two children out of trouble be? The ends on his lips curled into a small smile. "Alright Caroline-san and Edward-san," he said, kneeling to their height. He did his best to mimic the tone of voice China used on him when he was little. "What kind of game would you like to play?"

Caroline squealed and rushed to gather her toys. The brother didn't move. He stood in his spot, gazing curiously at him. For once, he spoke: "Mr. Honda, why do you speak funny?"

On a second thought, Japan didn't think he'd be able to do this.

* * *

><p>Rodger was a little scared. All around him was human verses HETA. Occasionally, he saw a HETA equally fight a group of his men at the same time. He knew that those monsters were going to be skilled fighters, he just didn't expect his men to be met this closely. But that was alright, he was safe from most of the fight.<p>

He was a leader, not a fighter. Sure, he could throw a few punches, but the human was deathly afraid of being hurt himself. The searing numbness that came from a few hits and the burning heat that followed was too much for him to bear. It didn't help that he had a few more scars from that Henson girl's boyfriend. No, he preferred to command the battle, not fight himself.

It was much safer that way.

Keeping all this in mind, it was not a good thing for the men Rodger had surround himself with fall at the hands of a revengeful American. At first, the human could not place the name of the HETA before him, but he hadn't needed to worry for long.

"Remember me?" the man demanded, approaching his opponent coolly. "My name is Alfred F. Jones; the United states of America."

Rodger gave an unimpressed look. "That's nice," he drawled, pulling out his two pistols. "Mine is Rodger T. Parker; I'm also from the United States."

America smiled happily and pointed his gun at him. "That's cool, he replied. "But I have something important to ask you. Remember the night we first met?"

The HETA was walking into territory best left uncharted. He tensed and raised his own weapons higher. "Of course I do."

"Well you kinda mutilated my boyfriend, and I want revenge." The happiness in America's voice was disturbing.

Laughing a cold laugh, Rodger mocked his opponent. "Boyfriend?" the blond repeated. "What are you, a freaking fag-" He didn't have a chance to finish. A bullet scrapped along his cheek, painfully ripping a shallow cut. He gasped and pressed a sweaty hand against it. "_Damn, already injured_," he thought unhappily.

America smirked and threw his gun to the ground. He marched up to the human and got close to his face. "I'm a pretty nice hero," he said, patting the other's head of hair. Rodger swatted his hand away. "I believe in equality. So let's make this fair." Dramatically, the immortal dropped all of his weapons.

The clanked loudly on the ground, defining the moment in both of their memories. "I'm gonna fight you with no weapons and-" America- in the same manner -placed a hand behind his back. "-With one hand behind my back."

"_Is he serious?_" Rodger wondered, giving him a disbelieving look. He wanted to mock him again, but the other's glasses framed the deadly glint in his eyes. At last, the human smirked and readied himself for his victory. He could do this, he just had to make sure he didn't get hurt.

"You're on."

* * *

><p>David took a deep breath. He was directly in front of his father's old office. This was the last place to check- Rosa had to be here. Strongly, he kicked the door open. He was met with a sword stabbed into his stomach.<p>

Gasping, he collapsed into himself. Already, he could feel his world go black. "I'm. . .sorry. . ." he muttered, speaking to some imaginary ghost. A spurt of blood left his mouth. David looked up at the attacker. "Who. . .are you?" he asked. ". . .Why?"

"I'm fixing that jackass's mistake."

* * *

><p>"If something bad happened to Ludwig, I'm sure Kiku or Hungary would've told us immediately," I said, chasing after Gilbert. Now I can see how the nation was able to beat a car in speed- he was able to run fast. Freaking fast. I had to grip the end of his sleeve in order to keep up and slow him down.<p>

The older brother shook his head. "Nein. If he was okay, then he would had arrived with them," he countered, seemingly picking up his speed. We came upon a T-like corner. One way went right, the other left. "Which way?" he demanded, barely slowing his pace for me.

"Right," I replied. We turned the next corner and ran into the last person I would have wanted to see.

Walter stood in the middle of the hallway, blocking our path to the door of the basement at the end of the hall. He looked at us nonchalantly, as if he barely processed the two people in front of him.

I stopped dead in my tracks, pulling the Prussian back. I stared into the man's green eyes. There was nothing there. Only hallow shells reflecting our faces back to us. Arthur really was right- Walter had no soul. Said man stiffly raised a rifle and aimed at us. "You cannot pass," he said monotonely.

Gilbert cracked his knuckles as he rolled neck. "The awesome me can take you easily," he said, taking a few steps forward.

I must care about his safety more than I originally thought (read: not at all). Or maybe I hadn't let Walter go. Either way, I found myself doing the most embarrassing thing. I wrapped my arms around the Prussian's waist (yes, you read that right) and held him back. "Don't!" I yelled, stubbornly digging my heels into the ground.

"Why not?" He demanded, trying to pull me off of him. "He going to fucking attack us-" He paused when Walter fired a shot, but not at us. No, he was aiming for someone behind us. Without releasing him, I turned my head and saw who it was.

"Go!" Ludwig yelled, wielding a large rifle in his hand. His greased hair was stained by a head wound. There was also something different about him. As if he was no longer so cold or dark. Like he was back to the normal nation I hated.

Gilbert gasped. "Bruder!" he yelled, a smile growing on his face. The relief in his red eyes were plain. "I'm glad you're okay." Ludwig yelled something in German, causing a few tears to fall from the Prussian's eyes. "Danke," he said, before grabbing my wrist.

He ran past Walter- barely scraping the man's hair -and down the hall to the basement. "What did he tell you?" I asked, stumbling over my feet.

His smile only grew brighter. "He's here!" He yelled, practically jumping in joy. "My Großer Bruder! He's here!"

My mouth dropped. "Holy Rome? Here? Where?"

"Germany said the basement."

"So that was who Vladimir smelt," I replied as we came upon the door. I was right, the Parkers did take him.

Prussia quickly kicked the door off its hinges and it fell loudly down the stairs. He released me and ran down the stairs. I didn't immediately follow him. Instead I took a moment to smile to myself. This was a happy- meeting your brother after twenty years of uncertainly. But that also meant that Rosa had him imprisoned all this time. I guess it was better-

The loud boom of a gun rang from the basement.

My heart stopped. Did someone . . . shoot Gilbert? Without a second thought, I ran down the stairs and into the dark room. Sunlight came in from the small window, barely illuminating the room. Barely illuminating the collapsed man.

Gilbert laid on the ground, a red stain developing over his stomach. I ran to his side, adding pressure to the wound. His already white skin was impossibly paler as his body had an extremely hard time dealing with the stress. He wasn't healing. The bullet must had been laced with the poison. "Who shot you?" I asked, worry lacing my panicked voice.

"I did." My blood ran cold. Slowly, I turned to the farthest corner in the room. A richly dressed Rosa stood in the shadows, smiling sweetly as she pointed her weapon at a flaccid, young man at her feet. It looked as though he hadn't been properly fed in years. Vibrant, blue eyes stared at me as his mouth hung gaped.

"Italien?" he whispered, staring directly at me. "Oder bist du das kleine mädchen?" Was he the Holy Roman Empire?

His sad state made the anger inside of my flare. Growling, I glared at my step-sister. "What do you want?" I demanded.

"Annie, I want your help."

* * *

><p><strong>SEK: <strong>*flips out* Wait, so let me get this straight! David is dead, Annie is going to face Rosa, both descend from France, Prussia killed Mia, and Holy Rome is in this.

**BFTL**: (Why does this sound like some cheesy soap opera?)

**MW**: In summary, yes. Believe it or not, I did kinda told you guys about Prussia earlier.

**SEK**: When?

**MW**: AN for chapter 8. I said, "I had a little trouble with Prussia's character since he really doesn't play a role in the story till the second haft."

**SEK**: That told us nothing!

**BFTL**: Hey Wolf, why is HRE in this?

**MW**: Who doesn't put him randomly in their stories? Moving on, next chapter is the last chapter! Then its epilogue and omake (which reminds me: FANART PEOPLE! WHAT ARE YOUR PROMPTS?)

**SEK**: Remember to review!

**Funfacts and Translations**

"The Beginning of the End" My attempt at a slightly serious chapter title

"Cugino" Cousin. Italian.

"Hajimemashite" Nice to meet you. Japanese.

"Late Summer of 1927" You can tell I was trying to squish as many ancients as I could into one scene.

"Opa" Grandpa. German.

"Ohonhonhonhon~ Incest~" Here at BFTLandMWandSEK, we do not support unsexy incest. We do, however, fully support selfcest. Selfcest is good for the soul.

"'Never presume anything about anyone."' For those who did not get it, Annie was quoting Walter from Chapter 12.

"Japan didn't think he'd be able to do this" I have no faith in Japan as a father.

"Henson girl's boyfriend" I keep on joking about this since I know (don't deny it) that some of you support AnnieXLudwig (Though there was this one girl who PM me asking for some AnnieXGilbert) (BTW, neither are going to happen).

"Italien?...kleine mädchen?" Italy? Or the little girl? German.

**Next Chapter: **The battles start and sense is made.

**REVIEW? PRETTY PLEASE?**


	20. From Nadir to Apex

**MW: **Hello everyone! Welcome to the last chapter of HETA *Tears* I do hope you enjoy. Now, you all are probably wondering: "Why did this chapter take so long?" Well, I'll tell you. THIS CHAPTER WAS DONE THREE WEEKS AGO, BUT SEK DIDN'T PROOF READ IT!

**SEK**: Is this why I am tied to this pole?  
><strong>MW<strong>: Yes, so that all the disappointed people may poke you with sharp sticks.

**SEK**: Isn't that a little harsh? I mean, **OTAKU-KON** did draw you more beautiful fan art so you should be in a good mood.

**MW**: Yes, but I am mad at you, not her since she is now receiving another omake prompt opportunity. Yay for her. Now, ONWARDS WITH THE CHAPTER!

**Chapter Summary**: Sorry guys, you gotta read it for yourselves.

**Warnings**: Language, Blood, Violence, Death.

**Disclaimer**: I still do not own Hetalia. Considering what happening in this chapter, this might be a good thing.

* * *

><p><strong>~Chapter 20~<strong>

**From Nadir to Apex**

* * *

><p><strong>April 5, 1944<strong>

**Henson Mansion**

My fingers inched to grab the guns on my side. I was armed with two pistols and a riffle, yet I had no will to use either of them. The basement seemed to fit the mood: dark, damp, cold. It was rather funny: David told me to stay away from Rosa, yet here I was facing her alone. My heart banged loudly against the leather book in my breast pocket. "Help you with what?" I demanded.

Rosa placed her free hand over her stomach. "My womb," she said, silent tears shaking her chest. "You can fix my womb." I felt my hateful look melt.

Her womb? How was that . . .? I remembered then violent lost of her first child. "_But that was just to trick me,_" I reasoned. "_She never had that child in the first place._" She looked up at me and I saw the pleading look in her green eyes. There was no way for any living being to mimic such a pitiful look. "_Or not._"

Taking a deep breath, I replied calmly, "What about Caroline and Edward? They are your children as well."

A bittersweet smile grew on her face. "Adopted at birth," she said. Now that I thought about it, I was always away during her pregancies. I never actually saw her baby bumps or anything. But I bet she planned that out perfectly as well. "_Or not._"

Releasing a small groan, Gilbert lifted his head off the ground and glared at me. "D-don't . . . listen to . . . her," he gasped, struggling to both talk and breathe. A tiny bit of blood spurted from his mouth. "You . . . don't you dare betray us."

His 'support' was not helping. Conflicted feelings tore my insides apart. I was split between helping my step-sister and fulfilling my loyalty to the world. A small voice inside of my head reminded me of Dad's letter. He said that everything the woman before me did was in order to manipulate me. Another responded with the trust I never felt for him and I always felt for her.

The only thing I could do was stall and hope for someone to make a move first. "Why do you need me?" I asked, peering quietly at her.

Rosa bit her lip. "Your blood," she said softly. "Your blood can heal. Maybe it can heal me. . ."

My heart continued to break even more. I was starting to think that maybe everyone around me was wrong. Maybe she was only tricking me to help that poor, twisted side of herself. The one that made her seem like the heart broken mother she was. Alone inside of her twisted wonderland.

"Don't," Gilbert warned again. I had to say, for someone so injured, he was holding on pretty strong. "She's just . . . end it now."

End it now. In order to do that, I would have to kill her. I didn't want to kill her- killing her would kill me. She was my family whether I liked it or not. I owed her that much, right? Rosa deserved a chance to set things right. David received his and excelled with flying colors. That's considering he cut off my own ear.

Carefully, I drew my two pistols. I stared at the cold metal for a long moment. My reflection stared back at me, asking me what I was doing. "_I'm solving this without violence,_" I replied before placing them gently on the ground.

"W-what are you-" The nation coughed more blood. "Don't me an idiot!" He hoarsely cried. "Shoot him-" More blood.

"Trust me," I told him, pulling the rifle strap off my back and placing it on the ground as well. Rosa looked at my curiously as I kicked them out of my reach, but did not move her gun from Holy Rome. I raised my hands in the air and slowly approached her.

"Put the gun down Rosa," I said gently. She tensed and I stopped in my place. I breathed soften hushes, telling her to relax. She completely broke apart when I told her, "It's alright Rosa. You don't have to fight anymore."

The blond sobbed and lowered her gun. She stared at me for a long moment, crying hard with snot leaking from her nose. For such a beautiful woman, she sure didn't cry beautifully. "Come here," I ordered, outstretching my arms to her.

The dam broke and Rosa placed her gun back in its holster. Crying as hard as Ukraine, she ran up to me and buried her face in my chest. I placed both my arms around her, patting her back. "It's alright," I cooed, whispering into her ear. "You don't have to fight anymore."

As my step-sister continued to cry, I couldn't help but to smile warmly. See? I could settle things without violence! I didn't need shoot every single person I met. Now everyone could live as semi-peaceful life. No weight of the passing on their shoulders. Completely free.

God, it felt so awesome when you're right.

I buried my face into her blond hair and took a deep breath. "Annie?" Rosa's voice was nothing more than a soft whisper.

My smile deepened. "Yes?"

For the smallest second, I felt her body tense. I ignored it and focused on what she had to say next: "You're an idiot."

That was when the knife went into my chest.

* * *

><p>Germany could not think clearly. The incessant loss of blood made it impossible for him to move as skillfully as he usually did. It occurred to him that maybe that was why he was not easily defeating the human before him. Surely, his brawn would be able to easily overcome Walter's.<p>

But Walter moved mindlessly with no regard to hurting himself. Already, his elbow bone was sticking out of his flesh and his body as cut from head to toe. He really was just following orders without a second thought. Germany dodged to the left as Walter tried to kick him in the stomach. They had long ago run out of bullets and had resorted to a full out brawl.

"_Is this how I was like?"_ the nation wondered, throwing a side jab. "_Was I this mindless?"_ His opponent ducked and tried to punch his stomach. Germany didn't see it coming and felt the wind knock right out of his lungs. Ficken, since when was he so weak? It was the damn cut on his forehead. Why hasn't it healed yet?

The blond clutched his stomach, trying to regain his lost breath. Walter placed two hands on the sides of his head and smashed the nation's face into his knee. Germany yelled in pain. That hurt even more that the blow to the stomach. It also seemed as though his nose was broken. Great, another hole for more blood to flow out of.

He stumbled back a few feet and randomly kicked his leg out. He hit his goal: knocking Walter into the nearest wall. The man didn't even gasp in pain. He did, however, pause to correct his crooked glasses.

The blond regained his footing and tried to plan out his next move. His normally greased hair was messed up, brushing the tops of his eyebrows. The blood fell into his eyes, blurring his vision. Germany wiped at his eyes, giving the other a chance to swipe at his feet.

The German fell to the ground. He lashed out in Walter's general direction, but missed terribly. Green eyes regarded the nation nonchalantly before kicking him in the face. "They told me you fought better," the human said, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him up off the ground. "I guess I was misinformed."

The nation glared up at the victor. "You've already lost," he growled. "You can't kill me."

Walter's face did not change. He took a cold finger and traced it down the stream of blood on the other's face. "She told me you had the poison in you," he said, rubbing his blood between his fingers.

"What poison?"

The smallest of smirks quirked on the man's face. He didn't release his grip as he explained, "It is something my family was suppose to recreate. It stops any person's healing capability. Even yours."

The blond was left speechless. So that was why his injuries weren't healing. He was practically human. "_I'm damned_," he thought, gritting his teeth together. "_By now, I'm as good as dead." _ Walter reached over and picked up an empty rifle off the ground. "_And now a human was going to bash my head open."_

Germany closed his eyes and awaited the blow. "_I didn't even tell Italy I was sorry..."_

* * *

><p>France didn't need England to help him. He could tell all the nations in the mansion easily by himself. But no, the blond insisted on covering the hallways while he was left with the silly old ballroom. Vaguely, he wondered if there were any female humans he could flirt with. That would stop a few bullets . . .<p>

"Vee~! I don't want to fight~!" And there was the first nation. Italy was crouching behind a turned over table next to Spain and China. Both were trying to convince the Italian to at least hold a gun, but every time the metal was in his hands, Italy would panic and shove it back at them.

"You have to fight- aru!" China said lips tight with frustration.

"No you don't" Spain gently countered. "It would just mean a lot to us for you to at least try." Still, Italy shook his head stubbornly.

"Bonjour mes aims!" France called, crouching right next to them. "What seems to be the problem here?"

Yao gave an exasperated sigh and pointed at the brunette. "Italy refuses to fight- aru!" he yelled, causing said man to scream in fear.

The blond nodded. Of course his precious little Italy wouldn't fight. The last time he actually fought was back when Turkey was trying to invade his northern coast. Long story short, that was forever known as the day Turkey got his ass burned by an idiot. Still, France had to at least try to help. "Why not, ma Cher?" he asked.

Spain placed a comforting arm around Italy as he cried, "All of the guys look really scary and I don't want to fight anybody scary!"

Really? That was it? Someone as amazing as him could easily fix that. "Mon Cher, they're only scary if you let them be. It's all in your head."

"Vee~" The smaller man moaned, giving a defeated look. For a moment, everyone thought the French man won, that is until: "But there isn't a cute girl watching."

Cue a series of forehead smacks and annoyed groans. The blond did his best not to lash out at him. Surly, there was a simple solution to this. Yes, him. France took his chin and pointed his face towards his. "I'm watching," he cooed, placing the gun into his small hands. "And I'm cute. That does count, non?"

"Run Italy! Run as fast as you can before he rapes you!" Said man did just that, crying as he ran out of the ballroom.

The three remaining men groaned and glared at the Nordic joining them. "Tonto!" Spain yelled, an uncharacteristically frustrated look on his face. "Why did you do that Denmark?"

The man grinned broadly and ducked next to him. "I was just looking out for a fellow's well being," he justified, balancing his axe over his shoulders. "The King of Northern Europe owes him that much."

They groaned. "Should we even try- aru?" Yao asked, feeling a headache come on.

France sighed. There was a reason why he came here. What was it? Oh yes, now he remembered. He told the men of the poison and how it was now in the weapons. All their faces paled dramatically. "Shit," the Asian muttered, burying his face in his hands. "So this is the price I must pay- aru?"

None of them knew what he meant, but that didn't matter. They had to spread the news before someone got reckless. Unfortunately, someone did.

Denmark jumped over the turned table to tell the other Nordics. "Norway!" he yelled, interrupting the man's battle. The moment he took to look at the Dane was the moment he was shot in the leg.

He collapsed onto the ground just as the blonde's ax sliced at the human. He fell to his knees and shook the Norwegian's body. "Keep your eyes open Norge," he yelled, smacking the other's cheek lightly. The injured muttered incoherently before closing his eyes.

"Norway!"

* * *

><p>Austria was- to put it simply -not fighting well. Not at all. If Liechtenstein was here, she would have been kicking his arsch; without Switzerland's help. "Stop zoning out!" Said Swiss ordered, firing a few shots over the counter. They were at a stale mate in the kitchen. If this had been any other fight, those damn humans would have been begging for their lives by now.<p>

But it wasn't.

It was that poison. Britain had come by earlier and told them of its new source of entrance. Every country was playing it safe, hiding behind corners instead of fighting head on. They were all afraid of making the wrong move and getting the liquid mixed into their blood. And the humans knew it. And boy, weren't they using that to their advantage.

"What did I say?" Switzerland demanded again as Poland snickered. The guy got shot earlier and insisted on fighting. Granted, the bullet was not spiked and thus wound did heal, but that was beside the point.

Austria released a long sigh. "Sorry." He aimed carefully and fired his gun again. He missed by a long shot. "I was just thinking."

"Well think some other time! We're in the middle of a war right now!"

War. What a funny word. It everyone but them, it meant great bloodshed and loss of loved ones and family. But not the nations. To them, it was simply an argument they intended to win. Sheer stubbornness. The Austrian was tired of it. He just wanted to play his music and sit with his wife-

Oh, that's right. Hungary wasn't his wife. She hasn't been for years. Add the fact that his boss makes it impossible for him to spend a single moment with her without arguing and there was little room for that to change. Perhaps Germany was right when he claimed to have no free will. It suddenly didn't seem impossible. In the mess they were in now, it actually seemed like the only logic thing to believe in anymore.

This time, the blond smacked him. "Austria!"

"I'm sorry!" the nation apologized, fixing his glasses before resuming his fight. "It's was just-"

"Austria!" Said nation froze in place. That voice, it couldn't be . . .

Hungary shot the man he'd been trying to gun down before ducking behind their counter. Besides a few cuts and bruises, his ex-wife looked flawless. She growled and reloaded her rifle. "What happened?" Austria demanded, a little bit of concern mixed in his voice. "I thought you-"

The woman barely glanced at him. "All of us escaped," she said, peering at her next target. "Though that's not the important thing here."

He wanted to cry. Of course Hungary would concentrate on a fight, not him. She was a better fighter than most of the male nations. Still, a small kiss on the cheek would have been appreciated. The man gathered his courage. "Hungary, there is something I want to tell you."

"Well spit it out," she growled. "We don't have- Ah!" Hungary fell back as a bullet lodged into her shoulder. Austria swooped to catch her, but Poland beat her to it.

"Like are you okay?" the blond asked as Lithuania fretted behind him about her new injury.

The woman groaned and placed a strong hand over the wound. "No! It-" She yelled again in pain. Switzerland took a moment away from his weapon to place his own weight on the wound. "It feels as though my shoulder is on fire!"

Austria's violet eyes shone with shock. She was infected. She wasn't going to heal.

She was going to die.

Gently, the Austrian took her free hand in his. Lithuania moved over to them and did his best to be of comfort. "Don't worry dear," he said. "You'll heal soon."

Weakly, Hungary shook her head. "No. You're lying." He gave her his full attention before she explained: "I can't feel myself healing." Her green eyes filled with melancholy. "I've lived for too many centuries now, haven't I?"

Austria hushed her as his long time enemy called everyone else back to their weapons. The nation brought her hand to his forehead as he felt a few silent sobs rack his body. "Don't say things like that," he told her. "You're going to be fine. You're going to pull through dear." He choked. "Hungary, I love you."

* * *

><p>No one, not even his own men, expected Charles to stay away for too long. His precious children were in there- who could blame him? The man slowly re-entered the mansion, opting for the front door. The back entrance was busy with a battle of its own. By the looks of it, some Asian had brought firecrackers and was effectively using them as a makeshift weapon. He couldn't help but to admire the HETA who came up with that one.<p>

Charles entered the mansion alone. Thank goodness he convinced his men to go on without him. Natalie wanted to come with him and try again with that German man, but Sarah had pulled her away by the ear. _"They're so weird,"_ he thought, coming upon his first hindrance.

It was a large Russian man, pinning down a savage blond as another tried to tend to his own leg wound. He saw a blur of a crying brunette pass him, though he paid no heed. Odd, they sure didn't seem like any of the Parker men. _"I bet they're HETAs,_" he thought, trying to sneakily walk around them unseen. "_I need to quickly find Caroline and Ed-"_

"Where do you think you're going?" An overly creepy voice said. Charles felt the world around him darken. He turned and saw the large Russian smiling happily as he pointed a gun at him.

Oh shit.

* * *

><p>Rodger took another step back and crashed into a door. When he agreed to fight against America, he did not expect the man to have super strength. It was terrifying how he was able to punch his fist through the walls of the narrow hallway the fought in. And that was just with one hand; how much damage could he do with two?"<p>

"_Save your bullets,"_ the blond told himself, ducking a jab to the face. So far, he was doing a good job at avoiding the pain. He only had a few scrapes and bruises- nothing more. Rodger's hand scurried to grab the door knob and he pushed the door open behind him. He ran with his tail between his legs into the room- a guest bed room.

It was nicely furnished with velvet chairs and a canopy bed. The human ran away from America, pushing a chair into him as he passed. The blond easily kicked it aside. "Aren't ya going to fight?" he demanded, smirking at the other's cowardice. "I thought you would at least die-" He paused as Rodger shot his shoulder.

America rolled his eyes and pulled the bullet out without a second thought. "Try again," he called, taking a step towards Rodger.

The human cursed and placed the bed between them. Why didn't he get the poison laced bullets again? If he survived this, he was going to give Rosa an ear full. But at the moment, he needed to buy himself a little time. But how? "Does this disturb you?" he demanded. Americans tended to be talkative, so maybe this will work.

"What does?" America gave a confused look, trying to comprehend the words. Alright, he was doing fine. Now he just had to think of something to be disturbed of. Crap.

Rodger said the first thing that came to his mind. "Living forever." The nation's eyes soften. Good, now he had to elaborate. "Doesn't it bug you to see everyone but yourself grow old and die? Don't you ever wish that for once you could join?"

As Britain would have said, it was one of the rare, few times in America's existence that he actually put some real thought into what he was being told. Even the expression on his face was oddly attentive. He gave a small shrug. "Well, yeah-"

The human fired his weapon again at the blond. Almost immediately, the nation lifted the bed frame up in the air and threw it at the human. The bullet missed by a long shot, however, the piece of furniture didn't.

It crashed painfully into Rodger, pinning him onto the ground. He banged his head on the way down, opening a large wound. America grinned and climbed over to him. "It does kinda suck sometimes," he said, patting the human's head. "But I'm the hero and heroes have to make sacrifices, right?"

Rodger glared at him. Even in his dizzied state, he knew quiet well that it was all over for him. He was going to die soon. Very soon. He knew death was going to feel awful- hopefully, not painful. But it would be better than living the rest of his mortal life in a prison somewhere. At a place like that, a guy like him would be beaten easily. And that disgusting pain would tag along. He coughed a bit as blood spilled into him mouth. "Please make is painless," he croaked.

The nation titled his head to the side. "What do you mean?" he asked the most perplexed look on his face.

If he had the will, he would have rolled his eyes. "You idiot," he spat. "When you kill me, make it painless."

A laugh. One long, obnoxious laugh left like bells from the American's throat. He clutched his side. "Kill you?" he demanded. "Why would I kill you?"

Was he serious? "Why wouldn't you?"

America smiled and started to search the room for something to bind him with. "I believe in equal justice" he said. "As much as I want to, I'm not going to do anything to ya until you exercise your right to a fair trial." He paused and smile. "And besides, I'm just a nice guy."

* * *

><p>"Germany~!" Said man opened his eyes. Walter paused mid strike and looked at the new comer. Italy stood at the end of the hallway, teary eyed and holding a gun shakingly in his hand. The German wondered what he was going with it, but he quickly brushed the concern aside.<p>

"Run Italy!" He yelled, finding a new source of strength. He had to make sure the smaller nation got out alive. "Go now!" Germany kicked at the human's legs and pried his hand away from his collar. Free at last, he scrambled to his feet and threw another punch.

Walter fell victim to it, falling back a few feet as more punches were thrown. The blond eventually hit him square in the face, breaking his glasses. The broken shards fell to the ground and dug into the nation's fist and the human's face.

Italy stood in his spot, not quite sure what he should do. He wanted to run- his legs were jumpy at the very thought of it -but there was something rooting him in his spot. Fear? Fascination? He didn't know. Instead, he just called out again, "Germany~!"

His ex-lover turned to him. "Italy!" There was a hint of rage in his voice. "Didn't I tell you to run?"

The human's green eyes glared with ire. Grunting, he wiped away a little of his own blood and saw his moment of opportunity. He lunged for the German and punched him in the neck. He choked for a moment, gasping for air. He felt as though his neck bone was cracked, though he considered himself lucky for it not breaking completely. But luck was not going to allow him to win this fight.

Germany threw a blind jab and the human caught it in his hand. He pulled him forward and flipped him over his hip and into the pile of broken glass the spectacles left. The nation landed on his back and yelled as the shards pierced his skin.

Walter climbed on top of him and punched his face a few times. He placed two strong hands around the other's neck. His monotone face looked down at him with no expression. "It's over," he said.

Defeated, the German closed his eyes. With the poison inside of him, he was not going to be coming back to life after this. He was going to stay dead like a normal person. "_I wonder what it's like_," he thought. The image of a world with the clouds as a floor came to his head. There were people with large, white wings as well. "_But I guess with the trouble I've caused, I wouldn't be going to heaven._"

He closed his eyes tighter. "_If only Italy didn't have to watch this_..."

The next thing he knew, Walter was falling over and lying limply on the ground. Germany opened his eyes and saw a teary eyed Italy pointing a gun where the human had been. "_Did Italy just. . ._"

He wasted no time in pushing the dead body off of himself and dashing to the smaller man. He peeled the weapon from the Italian's hands and eloped him in a large hug. Italy griped his shirt and cried into his chest. At last, the German made his apology. "I'm sorry Italy," he cooed. "I'm so sorry for doing everything to you."

The brunette shook his head. "I don't care about that!" He wailed. "Just don't leave me again!"

Germany was stunned for a moment. Italy still loved him? Even after everything he did? He held him tighter and pressed his face into the other's pasta smelling hair. "I promise."

* * *

><p>I stumbled back a few paces and stared at my chest. The knife's blade was embedded in the area over my heart. I felt a little pain- like the pricking of a needle -but nothing else. What the hell? I pulled the knife out and saw that only the very tip at blood on it. How was I still alive? Shouldn't I be . . . unless . . .<p>

Placing the knife in my pocket, I opened my military coat. Inside the breast pocket was my leather bound book. There was a new, knife shaped slit in it. I couldn't help but to smirk. Who would have thought my sentimental force of habits would one day save my life?

I looked at Rosa with wide eyes, yearning to know why? Why would she do such a thing? I seriously thought that she was merely just misunderstood. The woman frowned as she wiped away the snot and tears. "What does a woman have to do to kill you?" she demanded, pulling her gun from its holster. The look in her eyes was pure hatred. Cold, ugly, hatred. "I guess I'll just have to try again."

She aimed her gun at me and I searched the ground for mine. All three of them were too far out of my reach. There was no way I was going to be able to dodge a bullet. I looked her in the eyes. The blond slowly pulled the trigger . . .

Holy Rome jumped from his spot and roughly took hold of her hand. He jerked it to the side, causing the bullet to lodge into the wall, not me. "Beeilen sie!" He cried, fighting her for control of the weapon. I fell to the ground and slide over to one of the pistols.

Even though Rosa was weak and certainly not a fighter, Holy Rome's atrophied state was no match for her. She kicked and swung blind hits at him, seriously weakening him. But his grip was strong and relentless. He was not going to let go.

There was no choice now, Rosa had to die. I stole a quick glance at Prussia- he was still breathing -before taking aim at her. I held my gun steady and tried my best to get a clear shot. It was impossible.

She moved too quickly, trying her best to shake Holy Rome off. Whenever either of them paused for a moment, the empire was always covering her. I didn't want to shoot him- he might have the poison in him.

I felt a drop of sweat fall off my eyebrow. This was not going to end well. I took aim and shot at Rosa's shin. She screamed and fell into a kneel. Two white hands could not keep the blood from seeping. Her green eyes snarled at me, daring me to injury her further.

Holy Rome took the gun and took the ammo out of it. He threw it all to the side and look at me. "Es tun," he urged, motioning to my weapon. "Erschießen." I didn't need to know German to understand what he meant. He wanted me to kill her.

Slowly, I raised the gun and aimed at the woman. I cocked the gun. My own words came back to haunt me.

_"I am innocent and I don't need to kill anyone to prove it either. Never in my life had I meant to hurt anyone."_

And here I was, purposely hurting someone. I lined the barrel with her head and squinted. "_I can't do this,_" I thought. How happy she must feel- knowing her little chain around me still worked. _"I'm not going to do this,_" I decided. I started to lower my gun. "_I can't-_"

One clear gun shot rang out. It echoed off the walls and pierced my ear drums. A bullet entered the back of Rosa's head. She had a single moment of realization before she fell to the ground. Dead. I jumped back and looked to find the source.

The source was Ludwig and Feli, standing at the top of the stairs. The taller man held the smoking gun steadily. His face was cool with no emotions while the Italian looked distressed. "You were taking too long," he muttered, wiping away some of the blood off his face.

Slowly, he descended the stair case, each movement careful and refined. Feli steadied him, making sure he didn't fell or trip. Something told me that the German was suffering major blood loss from both a head and nose wound.

Holy Rome stared at him. "Itailen?" he whispered. Feli looked at the man, slight confusion in his brown eyes. The empire smiled broadly and ran over to the man, stumbling over his own feet. "Itailen!" In a moment, the brunette was encased in a large hug.

Losing his support, Ludwig seemed ready to fall. I stole one last glance at Rosa's corpse before coming to his rescue. I wrapped his arm over my shoulder and assisted him. "Take me to my bruder," he muttered, unaware that his long lost older brother was there as well.

Together, we made our way over to Gilbert. He was lying in a large puddle of his own blood. His red eyes were closed in final peace. The sight made the younger man's face white. There was a horror in his eyes. To my utter astonishment, salty tears started to fall. "Bruder," he muttered. He unhooked himself from me and fell onto his knees. It seemed as though he didn't mind being in the blood.

The German took his limp hand in his and brought it to his cheek. "Entschuldigung," he sobbed, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. "I'm sorry for being such a jerk." I felt a few tears fall from my own. Gilbert was dead? How was. . .

"You better be." I badly- so badly -wanted to smack my forehead. Both Ludwig and I gained looks of murder as Gilbert grinned and opened his red eyes. He gave us a curious look. "What? Awesome people don't die," he said, trying his best to justify his actions.

Ludwig did his best not to punch him. Instead, he lifted the man's chest up and held him close. "Dummkopf," he muttered, glad that his brother was alright.

Amidst their touching moment, Gilbert yelped. "Careful," he snapped. "I have a bullet in me, bruder."

"Bruder?" They paused and looked at Holy Rome. He held a still confuse Italy in his arms, giving Ludwig the strangest of looks. His voice came out in nothing more than a soft whisper. "Deutschland?"

I guess I was feeling a little left out of the conversation since I took it upon myself to introduce them to each other. Smiling brightly, I pointed to each man as I said their name. "Germany, this is the Holy Roman Empire. Holy Roman Empire, this is Germany."

The two men stared at each other in shock. Italy, on the other hand, gave the empire a curious look. "Vee~ really?" he asked, brushing at the other's mud stained hair. He licked his hand and rubbed it through until his locks became a light blond color. Add that with his ice blue eyes then there was no mistake. "Holy Rome~!" The Italian squealed, returning the bear hug. "You're alive~!" Tears of happiness fell from his eyes.

Holy Rome gave a warm smile and returned it. "Ja," he confirmed. "Ich bin."

Ludwig's eyes went wide. With what? I could not say. He approach him carefully, observing him like a wild animal. At last, he found him veritable and awkwardly extended a hand. "I am Germany," he introduced, not quite sure what to say.

I smile to myself. I was sure that they'll bond eventually, though by the look in both their eyes, I'll say they were to become love rivals first. Gilbert smirked and gave a low chuckle. "I'm glad they met," he muttered. There was a far off look in his eyes. "At least now, they'll have each other."

Shit.

I fell to my knees, creating a series of ripples in the blood. "Don't die," I said, panic rising in my voice. I took his hand in mine and quickly called to the other men. "Ludwig! Holy Rome! Get over here!" They joined me in an instant, sorrow wrinkling their faces. "He doesn't have much longer," I said. "Please tell me one of you have an antidote."

None of them answered me. Shit. I scrambled to find a solution. There had to be something we could do. Anything would be nice. I looked around the room, searching for something- anything -that could help. The stairs, Rosa, the guns, the pool of blood, the window—nothing. Nothing here was going to help me.

"Let's get him to Yao," I said. "He'll know what do to." I tried to lift Gilbert's dead weight, but found it impossible. Damn. His elder brother, with the help of Italy, lifted him onto his feet. I took over supporting Ludwig.

As we ascended the stairs, I stole one last glance at Rosa. A pain of guilt flashed through me. "Don't feel guilty," Ludwig muttered, nudging me to move forward. "She deserved it."

I sighed and moved forward. "I know." Even to me, the words weren't convincing. When the door down stairs closed firmly behind us, I felt as though I lost more than I had gained.

The noise of fighting had disappeared and was replaced with Arthur ordering nations about until his country's police came to charge the living. I smiled to myself. How convient.

My foot knocked into something and I looked down. Walter laid dead on the ground. I paused only for a second trying to continue on. The trio went on without noticing me. Ludwig, however, stopped to look at me. "I know how you humans are," he said. "You can have a moment."

I couldn't help but to smile. "Thank you," I said. I gently placed him against the wall before kneeling next to Walter. Imaging isolation, I stroke the dead man's hair affectionately. "I hope you're at peace now," I whispered. I kissed the tip of my fingers before pressing them to him cold forehead. For a second, I was sure he was going to reply.

'That sounded really French,' he would have remarked, giving me a stern look. 'Are you sure you're not French?'

"No I'm not," I chuckled. Carefully, I adjusted his body until he was lying straight on the ground in a peaceful state.

There was an old Greek legend I heard once. In order to get to Hades, the dead must pay a toll man to row his boat over the glossy waters. If not, the dead soul would be suck on the shores, living the rest of eternity watching others ride their way to heaven while they stayed there. So that a love one would not suffer such torture, a coin would be placed in the deceased mouth.

I smiled and pulled off my engagement ring. "I'm sorry I don't have a coin," I muttered before placing my ring into his mouth. "But maybe the ferry man would accept this."

I stood and gave Walter one last good bye. I lifted my nation charge over my shoulder and walked away. As if I was leaving more and more of myself behind. Just little pieces I may never see again. I felt a few tears sting my eyes. For him or for Rosa? I didn't know. I prayed it was for the fiancé.

The blond grunted, "Typical humans." Wow, way to ruing to mood, Grease Head.

When my heels clicked on the marble floor of the foyer, I saw the strangest, yet most satisfying of scenes. The nations were leading a line of a few dozen men out the front door. At the threat of gunpoint, they all held their hands above their heads. Among them was Rodger, hands bound together by a bent piece of metal, grumbling as Alfred happily carried him over his shoulder to the outside.

There were a few nations who were gathering the dead bodies and laying them in neat rows on the floor. There were at most twenty of them, all unfamiliar. The Baltic States searched each body, looking for an I.D. of sorts. Ivan loomed above them, scribbling their name on a notepad.

There was a small group at the center, admiring and exclaiming at Holy Rome. I noted Francis in particular. He had tears in his blue eyes as he explained the burden he had to live with. "I thought I killed you..." he was saying as I passed by.

I eventually found Gilbert again at this separate group on the corner. Norway, Elizaveta, and the Prussian were among the group of ten or so nations lying on the ground in states of sleep. All of them had been infected by the poison. Yao leaned over them, tending to their wounds and such.

"Are they going to be okay?" I asked, at last releasing the German for good. He automatically crawled to him brother, stroking his hair affectionately. There was a pained look in his icy eyes. It was as if—for the first time ever –he was feeling hopelessness.

Yao looked incredibly stressed. "I might-aru," he said, wrapping a bandage around Elizaveta's wound. "It depends on how serious the wound is- arr." All hopes I had of Gilbert pulling through grew dimmer. Out of every nation in need of medical attention, he was the most serious

I looked at Ludwig and saw a similar realization in his eyes. Never before had I seen anyone so broken hearted. All of the German's strength was going into not falling apart and crying. Suddenly, he looked at me. No, I take that back. He looked straight through me and out the window, praying to Gott that his brother didn't die. I couldn't help but to stare back at him.

We stared at each other for a long moment. There had to be something I could say to take his mind off of things around here. A couple of times, I found myself starting to speak just to quickly change my mind. "Hey Ludwig, I have something to confess," I said out of nowhere. Oh crap, what was I doing?

His eyes changed from sorrow to curious. "What is it?"

I gave a small, nervous laugh. "I only hated you because you are a total jerk," I confessed. Alright, not the best attempt at saving a relationship, but it's the thought that counts.

"I hate you because you are an annoying idiot," he replied, giving a small eye roll. "And you are still an idiot."

Offended feelings pricked my nerves. "Excuse me? What do you mean by-"

"China, I have the identification of all the dead," Ivan called, unknowingly stepping between me and my boss. We glared at each other from opposite sides of the giant, but did nothing more.

"I'm a bit busy right now- aru," Yao said, rubbing alcohol into Norway's wounds. Matthias looked ready to kill the Russian. Note to self: Never interrupt a Chinese man while he is healing a Norwegian whose protective Danish boyfriend is worrying about. "Can you read it aloud to me- aru?"

Ivan did so, his thick accent making each English name foreign. There was a few that tickled a distant memory, but no one I was really intimate with. That is, until one of the last names were read: "Charles Bright."

"Charles Bright!" I repeated, my voice raising a few octaves. "I thought he was a good guy!"

He titled his head to the side. "Good guy?" he repeated, giving his creepy smile. "If I knew that, then I guess I shouldn't have killed him. . ."

I my mouth hung open as I groaned in frustration. I resisted the strong, puissant urge to punch him. I failed and swung my as hard as I could at him. My fist landed harmlessly on the nation's shoulder. However, the impact did bruise my hand. I cursed and glared at him, ready to lash out again. But I never did. I had to quickly take control of my temper when I heard Ivan's signature 'kol'ing.

"He had two children!" I told him, trying- and failing -to make him feel the slightest amount of guilt. "And now both are orphaned!" I took a deep breath, suppressing any negative thoughts. I'll figure out something later when I could actually think clearly. "Which reminds me-" My voice was edgy "-Has anyone seen David?"

The Russian took a moment to think. "Ah, nyet. I haven't."

"Neither have I," Ludwig added. They are all useless. I can't get any of them to help me with anything. I checked the bullets in my guns before marching off, declaring that I'll find him myself. No one protested.

The upstairs was empty, but not silent. As I crept along the carpeted floor, I heard the giggles of two children. "_That must be Caroline and Edward_," I thought, putting away my weapon. I didn't want to scare them. I found the door that seeped with their noise the loudest.

I knocked (causing them to go pin drop silent) and invited myself in. Immediately, I was met with 'Aunt Annie!' and two children hugging my legs. Both looked alright- no imperfections I could see. "There you are," I exclaimed, giving them both motherly hugs. "Have you two been good?"

"They've been perfectly obedient Annie-san." Glancing up, I saw Kiku respectfully standing a few feet back. It looked as though he hadn't been in a fight either. Still, David wasn't there.

Caroline's shining eyes sparkled at me, demanding my attention. "Mr. Honda is really fun," she squealed. "We played a lot of games!"

Edward shyly muttered, "He taught us a weird Wando-"

"Ondo," the nation gently corrected.

"Ondo dance. It was weird. . ."

I squeezed both their shoulders, carefully pulling them off. "Go play for a few minutes," I said. "Mr. Honda and I have to talk for a minute." They happily did so, Caroline going off to practice her dance as Edward quietly sulked. Kiku and I lingered by the door and spoke in hushed voices.

"Is everything alright Annie-san?" The Asian asked. "Is the fighting over?"

I nodded. "Yes. We won." For once, I saw him give a visual sign of relief. "But we're still 'cleaning up', so can you keep them entertained for a little longer?"

"Hai. Of course I will. Caroline and Edward-san are very enjoyable to be around."

I couldn't tell if he truly meant it, or was just being polite. So I just brushed it away and asked what I intended to ask in the first place. "Do you know where David is?"

Kiku gave the tiniest of shrugs. "Rossi-san was checking the rest of the floor for Parker-san." He paused before adding, "Why? Is there something wrong?" I ignored his question and thanked him. If David didn't find Rosa, then where was he?

I meandered down the rest of the hall, checking each of the empty rooms for him. Or at least his body. "_Don't think that way,_" I told myself. "_You know that wouldn't happen_." After a long while, I came upon my father's old study. I could hear faint voices on the other side. Someone was behind there, waiting.

Aiming my gun at the door, I took a few steps back and kicked it open. Anyone want to take a quick guess at what I saw? Anyone? Either way, I'm going to tell you.

I saw Heracles falling asleep on the couch as Sadiq turned quickly and pointed his two blood stained swords at me. My brother laid on the ground. Nearly dried blood covered a wound in his stomach.

The armed one made a lung at me, thrusting the blades in my general direction. I pointed my gun in a more prominent way. "Lower your weapon!" I demanded. I ducked to the side, barely missing the blade. "Lower your weapon! The fighting is over!"

The Turk didn't listen to me. Instead, he kept of slashing at me, muttering curses in Turkish. I had to give him points for effort and determination. If my life wasn't on the line, I might have actually admired him.

I stumbled over my feet and fell sharply on my butt. It looked as though I had no choice. I prepared myself to fire- A random hand shot out and restrained the man. "Stop . . . Turkey . . ." Heracles yawned, easily holding him back.

"Why?" Sadiq demanded, flailing his limbs wildly. "That jackass caused all this!"

The Greek stared blankly at the wall in front of him. "But there's . . . no more fighting . . . it's not . . . necessary. . ." He still refused to listen, demanding that he took the chance to kill me. It wasn't until the cat lover threatened to reveal 'certain pictures' did he finally stop.

"I'll kill you someday," the man threatened, snarling like an animal. "And when I do, I'll enjoy every damn minute of it."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, not paying any attention to him. My feet moved myself to my brother. He laid motionless on the ground, not showing any signs of life. "_He can't be dead,_" I thought, brushing a hand over his cheek. It was warm.

I smiled.

"Can you two go down stairs?" I asked nicely. "I need a few moments alone."

The Turk stubbornly shook his head. "No way in he-"

"Do it," Heracles growled. After much persuasion, the two of them were leaving me alone with the corpse. For a few minutes, I merely played with his brown hair.

When nothing happened, I stood and placed my foot over his chest. "Get up," I ordered, kicking his stomach lightly. "I know you're alive." Of course, he didn't move.

I stomped my foot into his gut. David screamed out in pain. "Alright! Alright! I'm getting up!" He yelled, slowly sitting up. "Geezes Kid, you didn't have to result to violence," he snapped, placing a hand over the pained area.

"Well you weren't going to get up any other way," I snapped back.

"I just wanted to see if my Sorella would cry if I die." He gave a pout. "Apparently not, though I still don't get how I'm still alive. . ."

"You're a half blood," I explained. He gave me a confused look. "Both of us descend from Lovino and- I think -Francis. But you were the only one who actually got the mutations. I'm normal."

David slowly absorbed the information he just received. I couldn't tell if he was pale from blood loss or panic. "No, you're the abnormal one," he said. "Dad had Walter test your blood-"

"And you thought it was for evil purposes, so you replaced my blood with your own," I explained. Wasn't it great that I figured this all out? "Because you swore to protect me."

He opened his mouth and closed it a few times. At last he mumbled, "I forgot about that. . . And that caused everyone to think that you were the special one," he muttered, a contrite look in his eyes. "Annie, I-"

I cut him off. "It was part of Dad's plan. I think he orchestrated everything so that everyone would believe that I was the special one, when in fact, you were. So you did your brotherly duty of protecting me-"

"-as you unknowingly protected me." David finished for me. "He never told me that part of the plan," he said, clearly impressed. "But I can see why; if any of us found out about it, then it would have failed."

I smiled warmly at him. At least my brother was alive. At least I had him. We could be together forever. But I couldn't lose him. No, it was safer if he was far away from me. But I'll think about that later when I could bear the idea of departing ways from him.

Out of nowhere, I hugged him, wrapping my arms tightly around his slender body. He stared at me for a long moment, unsure at how his sister was suddenly treating him. At last, his good arm wrapped around me and hugged me back.

We stood and separated. For once, he was able to read the atmosphere and guess my words before I spoke them "We have to join them now, don't we?" he asked.

I nodded and started to lead him back to the stairs. "Yes, but don't worry, you're a 'hero' now."

"Hero, hm?" David considered the word. "I like it. It beats playing the evil brother role."

More guilt hit me. "I'm sorry about that," I told him, looking down at my feet. "I've been a rotten sister."

David gave me a confused look. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "You are the best sister in the world. I mean, you did help to save it, remember?" I laughed. That was one way to put it. Laughing, he looked down at his cast. "You know, if people would stop throwing me down stair cases and rebreaking my arm, then we may have realized my super power sooner."

As we started to walk down the stairs, before I could give him any reply, I heard the most dreadful sound. It was of Yao's voice easily reaching every year in the room.

"Prussia is dead- aru."

* * *

><p><strong>MW<strong>: *hides* So many of you are going to kill me. Especially that one reader who specifically asked me not to kill him off.

**SEK**: See guys! Poke HER with the sticks!

**MW**: No, it's still your fault. Gilbert was going to live but then she told me that the this chapter didn't have that wow factor my previous ones did, so I changed it. Moving on, epilogue is coming next chapter! Hopefully it won't be disappointing! Though I am going to warn you now: I like bitter-sweet endings. There is going to be a healthy spoonful of sadness.

Remember, fan art people, please send in your prompts. You have a week after the epilogue (which is nearly finished). If you would like an opportunity for an omake or a possible one-shot, then send in your fan ary ;D (I love bribing you all)

**SEK**: And please review, even if it's just to yell at her.

**Funfacts and Translations**

"Bonjour mes aims!" Hello my friends. French/

"Beeilen sie!" Hurry up! German

"Es tun" I do. German.

"Erschießen." Shoot her! German.

"Entschuldigung" I'm Sorry. German.

"Ich bin." I am. German.

**Next Chapter**: It all ends. For real.

*****Prepares for bombardment of angry reviews*****


	21. Epilogue: From Today and Forever Onward

**MW: **So many people reviewed~! Note to self: kill off cannon characters causes an increase in reviews. I shall remember that for future stories.

**SEK and BFTL: **WOLF!

**MW: **Sorry! Anyways, we're all here—the epilogue. Holy crap, seriously? It feels like yesterday I started this.

Due to the fact that I want to leave you guys with a 'lingering thought', both ANs are going to be compacted into the top one here. So let's get started.

First off: I would like to thank you all for reading and reviewing this story. Please stay tuned for the ending omake.

**SEK: **That's right. If you guys have drawn fan art, the please send us your prompts. All fan art for the contest is due **March 18, 2012.** As stated before, that is a week after this publication. All art submitted afterwards will not be put up for the one-shot prize. Prompts submitted after that date will be considered 'invalid'.

**MW: **The prompts are a good way to get me to write anything you wanted (but didn't) see in the story. But for everyone else who aren't doing that, I have something for you all. If there is any question you want us to answer, just send it to us somehow and we'll answer it in the omake. Doesn't have to be HETA related. Heck, you can ask me what color my underwear is and I'll tell you.

**SEK: **Trying desperately to make the omake interesting?

**MW: **Yup. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the ending~! Tell me if you do or don't!

**BFTL: **I would like to dedicate this chapter to an apple pie **SEK** burned while proofing this chapter. Rest in peace Mr. Pie.

**Chapter Summary: **We see everyone's life through out the years

**Warnings: **Language, Violence, Dark/Angsty Themes, and Death

**Disclaimer: **Even now, I still have no ownership of Hetalia.

* * *

><p><strong>~Epilogue~<strong>

**From Today and Forever Onward**

* * *

><p><strong>April 16, 1944<strong>

**The Cemetery**

The black, looming clouds above us released a rain that fell in a fine mist. Today was the day we- just Ludwig and I -buried what remained of Gilbert: a metal box filled with dirt. To tradition, we were burying him where his capital used to be: Berlin.

The Allied and neutral nations didn't trust going to their enemy's homeland and Roderich was caring for Elizaveta. Unlike the Prussian, all the other infected nations survived the poison. Yao had discovered a method for ridding it from the body: replace the infected blood. The process was long, painful, and left its patients frail, but they'll live.

But Gilbert didn't.

I stood to the side, holding the umbrella over Ludwig as he covered the grave with dirt. He insisted on burying his brother himself. Mud covered the ends of his black slacks and sweat trimmed his brow. As he continued to fill the hole, there still was a pained look on his face. It reminded me of myself when my father died: unsure of whom to blame.

He could blame Rosa for shooting him. Heilrich for not stopping her. He could blame me for letting the nation go in first. He could blame Yao for accidently creating the poison in the first place. Most importantly, he could blame himself for not protecting him. For treating him like trash.

I pulled at the sleeves of my black dress. I wish I would have remembered to wear a sweater today. But there were more important things for me to remember. Like I remembered the moment Yao declared Gilbert dead.

I remembered immediately running down the steps to him, ignoring my brother's confused cries.

I remembered pushing away the crowding nations to see Ludwig leaning over the corpse as Heilrich and Feli held each other, crying.

I remembered Ludwig holding Gilbert's cold, limp hand and asking him questions he could never respond to.

I remembered him scolding Gilbert, demanding he stop pretending.

I remembered myself and the nations not having the heart to stop him.

I remembered Ludwig instead insisting that his brother had just fainted.

I remembered when he placed a hand on his cold cheek the worst thing happened.

I remembered watching Gilbert's body crumble into Prussian dirt.

I remembered the horrified look on our faces as the realization hit us. Gilbert Beilschmidt, the personification of Prussia, has died and returned to the origin of every nation: Dirt. Land. Earth.

From there, everything moved by fast. There was a large service at an English chapel that every nation attended.

I remembered stepping inside the church with David and seeing the crowded pews. There was one particular row I saw Arsenius and- what I was after told -the other ancients. They were there to make sure the service kept to tradition.

The representation of Germania ran it, guiding us in prayers. We even sang the Prussian national anthem. The box with the dirt remains was decorated with cornflowers, his national flower. It felt as though that was the saddest day of our lives.

Less than a day later, Ludwig, Elizaveta, Roderich, and I packed our bags and returned to Germany. I had to; I was still the maid. David joined forces with Francis and Lovino and traced our other bastard ancestor. They even had Yao check his blood to see what extent his mutation went to.

Luckily, he can only heal himself. He will still age and (most importantly) die. My brother also took official custody of Caroline and Edward and was looking for a house in Italy somewhere.

"_At least he's not dead,_" I thought, watching Ludwig pat the mound of dirt smooth. "_I guess I'm lucky that way." _Ludwig wiped his head and placed his shovel to the side. He stood motionlessly, staring at his work.

Emotions ran across his face. Sorrow, exhaustion, anger; they all swirled together in a painting of guilt. The man's blue eyes shimmered with tears that yearned to be shed. That small, caring part of myself ordered me to comfort him. But I couldn't. There was nothing I could think of to say.

Ludwig made a noise that sounded like a sigh mixed with a chuckle. "It's ironic," he muttered. "Because of me, hundreds of unmarked mass graves have been dug. Yet when I dig a single grave for someone I treated like trash-" He pointed exasperatedly at the gravestone. "-We don't even get his name right."

I knew what he meant. Engraved on the stone was his brother's human name, year of death, and the Prussian motto: "Suum cuique". No mention of his status of country. No mention on how awesome he was. He was just another fake name on a stone.

Slowly and carefully, I wrapped a single arm around the nation's shoulder. "I know," was the only thing I could say. We stood in dead air, watching the grave intently. "You know, it's alright to cry."

"Only the weak cry," Ludwig replied, not even bothering to look at me. "And mein bruder would not want me to be weak."

For a second, I had nothing to say. But the sage I was becoming shone and I responded, "On the contrary. A strong man admits his feelings because he knows that it'll only make him stronger."

"But I'm not strong!" His volume made me jump, but I didn't move my arm. Tears brim around the blond's eyes before spilling down his face. By his expression, I could tell he was trying his hardest not to. "I'm weak! I let mein bruder die!" He yelled, sobs racking his body. "What kind of pathetic being am I if I allow something like that to happen?"

"It's not your fault," I replied, feeling my own tears start. "If all this taught me something it's that there are some things you just can't change."

Ludwig didn't say anything. Instead, he bowed his head in a hopeless attempt to hide his face. The small, caring part of me called out again and I found myself closing the umbrella and hugging the German. Surprisingly, he embraced me back.

For that single moment, we weren't two enemies. We didn't hold some unspeakable grudge against each other. No, at that moment, we were two people who were mourning a dear friend, a dear brother.

I realized something and smiled. "You want to know something Ludwig?" I asked, still holding him.

"Ja?"

"You're crying."

"Do not rub it in."

I shook my head. "No what I mean is: you have a free will."

He pulled me away from him and held me an arm's length away. "What does me crying have to do with that?" he demanded, looking slightly confused.

"Politically speaking, it would have been a blessing if Gilbert had died," I said. "There would have been no representation of East Germany to place hold on any of your government's decisions. It's better for you that he died."

Ludwig wasted no time in slapping me across the face. "Don't say things like that!" He snarled, glaring at me murderously.

I rubbed my cheek. At least I saw that coming. "There's my point!" I exclaimed. "Because you care so much that your brother is dead, you have a free will!" His blue eyes grew wide in realization. "You're not a mindless drone!"

I imagined his jumping up and down in relief and hugging me in happiness. But that didn't happen. Instead, sorrow over came him. "And it only took Prussia's death," he muttered. He bit his lip and clenched his fist. "And I could have stopped this damn war whenever I wanted to. I could have stopped myself from hurting Italy. I'm. . ." Ludwig fell to his knees in defeat. "I'm a ficken monster!" he screamed, punching the ground. His tears of sadness were replaced with tears of frustration.

I knelt next to him and placed my hand on his shoulder. "You know that's not true," I said. I should have added something else to support my statement, but I was at a loss for words.

"Yes it is," the nation said, hitting the ground again. "Everyone believes it. America, Italy, Holy Rome- and Gottverdammt! Even Prussia! They all think I'm monsters."

"Nein, I don't." We both paused. That voice, it couldn't be. "Since you're my little bruder, that makes you awesome." Slowly, we turned our faces towards the grave. Sitting on the gravestone, looking perfectly healthy and content was Gilbert. "Not a monster."

The platinum blond smirked down at us, wearing his blue military uniform. There was even a tall glass of beer in his hands. How was he . . . ? Ludwig slowly stood. Jaw touching the ground, he extended a hand to the other's face.

It went straight through. What the hell?

"I'm too awesome for hell so I went to heaven," Gilbert said, shrugging off our stunned faces. "But Gott couldn't stand how awesome I am, so he sent me back here."

"You're a ghost!" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. I swiped an experimental arm through where his chest should have been. Like before, it went straight through. An undeniable chill ran through my body. "You look so solid," I said. _"__Aren't ghosts supposed to be transparent?__"_

Gilbert took a long drink. "I don't know," he said. "The awesome me has never met one before."

Ludwig took a step forward. Zombie-like, he hugged the air around his dead brother. "Es tut mir leid," he said, ignoring the chill that ran through his own body. "I'm sorry I let this happen to you."

The ghost threw his head back and laughed "Keseses~! Are you kidding? This is the best thing that could have ever happened to me!"

"What?"

"Look at this!" The glass of beer in his hands disappeared and his outfit changed to that of a formal suit. "I'm so awesome, I can summon things like that. Plus, I can now spy on Hungary in the shower!"

Both of us were too relived to smack our foreheads. Instead, we opened the umbrella and walked away from the gravestone. The two brothers conversed fondly, as if they hadn't seen each other in years. There was a bubble of happiness swelling inside of my bosom. I looked up at the clouds.

At that moment I knew. I had my whole life ahead of me- a long, long life.

Unlike the countries, I can live the life I wanted. I can move to America, marry the man of my dreams, and have children. I can stand on the front porch and watch the love of my life skip to school each day. I will celebrate every year they grow older until they move far away from me. All the while, I will age and die. People will mourn, before resuming the wheel of time. It will turn on and on and on and on.

Nowhere in this cycle were the HETAs ever to exist.

The nations will stay youthful forever. They will watch from the sidelines as their citizens and bosses age and die. They have attended a thousand funerals and a thousand more they will see. Even with a poison, they will not die. Because of that, there was no circle for them- only a line that went on until they themselves fall. But as Gilbert proved, there was still a way to get around that.

"_It's as if they're an abomination to nature,_" I thought. "_As if they were God's one mistake._" Carefully, I stopped and opened my coat pocket and pulled out my leather bound book. But in the same way, there were the most human people I've ever met.

There was the simple love Feli felt for the world.

Ludwig's desire to be a man of his own free will.

Alfred and Japan's ability to overcome the politics around them in an odd "Romeo and Juliet" scenario.

The bitter-sweet-and-brotherly-love Arthur harbors for his younger brother.

A long lasting love that Francis feels for the one meaningful woman in his existence.

The superior knowledge that Yao must deal with every pasting century.

Ivan with his simple, childish facade and his promise to kill me.

Antonio's unconditional love he feels for the secretly lonely Lovino.

The uncertain years Gilbert spent searching for his older brother.

The odd rivalry between Heracles and Sadiq- one the Turk can easily put aside to do what he believes is right.

The love Elizaveta and Roderich feel for each other through the passing centuries.

With such a strange cast of characters, the book in my hands didn't matter. Without much thought, I tore the pages out and dropped into the mud. I watched them as they soaked and became unreadable. I stomped them in deeper, destroying the story of the HETA boy and his human friend. Who needed them when you had the countries of the world?

The rain fell harder as Ludwig and Gilbert continued on without me. It made me wonder, "_Where do I fit into this?"_ I already knew the answer.

The truth was, I never did. And I never will. Annabel Milano Henson: the girl taught to believe in monsters. The girl sent to destroy them. The girl they never should had met. The girl whom should had never known about them. David and I are just worthless pawns in this game of chess.

Much like the ones I would play with Dad in our spare time. I ducked out from under the umbrella and lifted my head to the sky. The rain pelted my face, making me feel calmer than I thought possible. I left the pages behind, never giving it a second thought as I ran to the two men farther ahead.

Along the way, I found myself speaking to the rain, imagining my parents in the drops. "Hey Mom, hey Dad," I said. "It's all over now, isn't it?"

Their imaginary voices responded in my head: "_Do you believe it is?"_

I bit my lip. Is it? Is it truly over? There was only one way for that to happen and it won't come for years to come. I've know it all along; so has the world.

The rain hit the ground and into a puddle. They disappeared immediately- like a human life. I reached our car and placed a hand on the metal hand.

"Not yet," I whispered. "Not yet."

Not hearing what I said, Ludwig snapped for me to hurry up. I hurried and climbed inside, continuing on with my life.

* * *

><p><strong>July 30, 1948<strong>

**Berlin, Germany**

I looked out the window. The crowded streets of Berlin passed by me slowly. The traffic was heavy, dealing with the mass population of German citizens. Even with most of the city in ruins after the battle for Berlin, there was still the ability of slow moving traffic. The city's sad state was almost in tone to the day's event: Me, leaving the countries for good.

I admit, it was not the perfect ending. In an ideal world, I would have stayed at Ludwig's Berlin home forever. Cleaning the floors, avoiding his stupid muts, testing his guns; the ideal utopia. But I've known all along that I could not stay forever. It was simply impossible.

Two years ago, the war ended with V-J day. Kiku and Ludwig were both weak and skeleton-like. I knew from reports that the island nation was suffering from radiation poisoning after having two atomic bombs dropped on him.

The German- on the other hand -had to deal with his lands being separated and controlled by the Allies. At the same time, he had to comb his government of war criminals and sentence them to justice. The burdern rested heavily on his stressed shoulders. He could barely get out of bed and go to his desk each morning.

Out of sheer pity, I chose to ignore the end of my contract and stay an extra two years to help him. I kept the house, made him wurst, and filed official documents. Over time, Elizaveta and Rodderich returned to their own homes. They were no longer the Axis Powers- they had no reason to stay.

Gilbert would leave for months at a time, seeing his friends and the world. He claimed that even though he couldn't touch anything, he was able to lead a normal human life. And when he was home, he would cause a fraught of mischief. Many times, when I was in the shower, he would stick his head through the wall to watch me.

Anyways, Ludwig also lost control of every nation he occupied. Nations such as Matthais, Francis, and Feliks were allowed to leave his basement and return to their homes. That left the German and me alone.

We only made occasional small talk. We both knew it would be foolish to let our disagreement rule our lives at such a time, so we simply barely talked to each other. In a sense, we 'agreed to disagree'.

I barely spoke during the course of those two years. When I did, it was either when David, Caroline, and Edward would call me from Italy, Ludwig found something important to say, or there was a visit from another country. There were a few whom did. Feli and Elizaveta were good candidates. They always added a sense of warmth to the house.

There was, of course, when Heilrich decided to give his younger brother a little support. Those were very tense visits- especially since no English was spoken during the static filled German. But on the brighter side, I was starting to understand a little German.

Lovino, finally fully recovered, decided to visit me once. We ended up spending his birthday in Italy together; a little grandfather/daughter bonding time. That was the only vacation I took, if you can even call it that.

Then there were the times when the Allies came to 'check up' on their charge. When they came, everything in the house would turn uneasy. Alfred, Francis, and Arthur always did their best to act normal around me, but even I could tell that they were ready to shoot Ludwig. I didn't blame them- with the amount of pain and suffering he caused over the years, it was hard not to hate him. Ivan didn't even try to hide how upset he was. I don't even want to think about what happened there.

But during all this, I grew older. My twenty-seventh, then eighth birthday passed. I was slowly turning into an old maid. I didn't even realize it until one day back in spring.

* * *

><p>I had woken to the Ludwig's dogs barking from outside. They were caught in the cold and rainy world outside. Besides their barking, the house was eerily silent.<p>

I sat up, feeling every joint, muscle, and bone I've every injured protest as they always did in cold weather. One day, I will learn the medical reason for that. Slowly, I wrapped my robe around my body, noticing how rough my hands felt. My feet touched the cold wood floor as I made my way to the mirror in my room.

That was the first time I noticed my hair. It had grown to a normal woman's length; about haft way down my back. But that day was different. There was another single strain of gray hair mixed in. I picked it up delicately, turning to between my fingers. Again? These have been appearing in my hair more and more often.

The dogs started barking again, reminding me to return to the real world. I quickly plucked it. I had to let them in or else Ludwig was going to wake-up. But I didn't leave. Instead, I brought my face closer to the mirror and scrutinized it. There were a few lines.

"_Since when did I have wrinkles?"_ I frowned, trying to smooth them out. Of course, they didn't disappear. "_I'm not even thirty! How can I have wrinkles?" _My frown only grew when I realized the answer: stress. Months and years of constant stress would age you and considering what I went through, it was almost seemed right for me to age a bit.

The dogs barked again. I slipped on my shoes and hurried down the halls. My feet made little noise as I went down the stairs into my kitchen. I paused at the doorway, seeing Ludwig already up and opening the door for them.

The three muts ran inside, retreating to the corner by the furnace. He barely glanced at me, before starting on a cup of coffee. "What are you doing up so early?" he inquired, placing a kettle on the fire.

I shrugged and took a seat at the table. "I was going to let those dogs in," I said, taking a quickly notice of how high the stove's flame was. I gave him a moment of silence before asking, "What about you?"

"I could not sleep." He replied before taking a seat across from me.

I looked out the window, watching the rain intently. It fell like bombs, pounding at the windows. For a moment, I was afraid they were going to break. "Why?" My eyes did not leave the shower. "You seemed very tired last night."

The nation sighed. "I just couldn't" was his excuse. I knew the real reason why. Last night, he had received another report about the Nazi death camps. Like every time before, he immediately reached for the alcohol. As always, I would take it from him, demanded he find a different way to sulk. Then he'll spend the whole night awake, thinking whatever thought came to his mind. I liked to think it was regretful ones.

The kettle whistled and Ludwig was occupied with fixing the two of us our cups of coffee. I took the warm cup in my hands and smelt the bitter perfume. I still preferred tea, but desperate times called for a drink of equal satisfaction. I remembered our previous coffee adventures.

"Give me your cup," I ordered. The German scowled at me before sliding his mug towards me. I sniffed it and immediately gave him a disappointed look. "You put beer in your drink again?" I demanded, marching over to the sink. I poured the toxic liquid down the sink. "Why do always do this to yourself?"

He gave a long sigh and glared tiredly at me. "This would not happen if you would just let me drink beer when I want to," he snapped back.

"You shouldn't rely on beer for stress relief," I said, making him a new cup. "At this rate, you're going to become an alcoholic."

I slid it towards him and he caught in his cold hands. "You act like my mutti," The nation growled, a little sarcasm dripping in his voice.

"I know." I took my seat again and we stayed silent. One of the dogs, Berlitz I think, trotted up to his master and begged for attention. Ludwig gave it readily, scratching behind its wet ears with affection. I placed my mug loudly on the table, saying, "Ludwig, I need to talk to you."

He looked at me with no emotions. "I need to talk to you about something as well," he said. "You go first."

The idea of him wanting to discuss something with me was unsettling. He usually kept any kind of change- routine or political -a secret from me until the last possible second. What in the world would he find worthy of my concern? "I'm going to be twenty-nine in August," I started. "And most woman are married and bearing their first child. I love staying here, but I'm not a country."

"I know you're not," was his reply. Ludwig ran a hand over his smoothed and greased hair. "That was actually what I wanted to bring up." Was it really possible that we were thinking the exact same thing?

The nation brought his coffee to his lips. "But I do want your help," he continued. "I do know and appreciate all the 'motherly'-" I scowled and he smirked "-things you do for me, but I'll understand if you want to leave."

"I don't want to leave," I said. The rain continued to fall, never-ending and never-starting. "But I know I have to."

* * *

><p>I looked up at the Union Jack hanging from a small, newly built building. Even though we were technically in the Soviet occupied part of Germany, Berlin was split into four different zones. It was so that each of the Allies in control of the nation would receive equal representation.<p>

"_Why not hang a German flag somewhere?" _ I thought as we entered the United States sector. The star-spangle-banner looked down upon us, promising a world of liberty and good-fortune. "_Remind the people that they're German._" Isn't that why the war was started in the first place? Because Hitler claimed that the world was oppressing German pride?

Ludwig drove the car silently, concentrating on the road before him. Like always, he seemed tired. Add the state his government is in with all the paperwork he has to do daily; it took him a few months to get me my exit visa. If this was some cheesy romance novel, you would think that he took so long because he liked me. But that wasn't possible- he was still fighting Heilrich for Feli's heart.

Plus, when the nation had first given it to me, the nation had slammed the paper on the table and gave a triumphed smirk. In my head, it translated to 'ha, ha! Now I don't have to deal with you anymore!' If that wasn't an obvious sign, I don't know what is.

I ran a finger over the passport on my lap. It was hard to believe that five years ago, this thing would have been a gift from God. It was rare and precious- like gold. Bitter-sweet-honey tasting gold. But now I feel as though I could've lived my whole life without it.

"Well be at the train station in a few minutes," Ludwig said, barely glancing at me. "Are you sure you didn't leave anything behind?"

I didn't even hesitate. "Positive." Just as we settle into our silence again, I gained the courage to ask, "Are you glad the war is over?"

His reply, though nothing more than a grunt, was instant. "Ja. I am."

At last, we pulled up to the train station. Unlike the rest of Berlin, this building was in good quality. It was one of the first repaired, allowing supplies and people to commute across the country. The only unsettling fact was the stoic soldiers posted at every few feet. At least this time they aren't Nazis.

I looked at the front steps and felt a wave of nervousness over come me. Heilrich, Feliciano, and Lovino were there. The happy one was waving excitedly, calling for his blond lover as the empire and brother scowled. Grimacing, I asked shakily, "Hey Ludwig, what are they doing here?"

The nation undid his seat belt and looked out the window as well. "To see you off," he said simply.

"See me off?" I gave a fake laugh. I really did not want to have an audience today. "Why would they do that?"

Ludwig climbed out of the car and, like a gentleman, opened the door for me. "Two reasons." He grabbed my arm and pulled me onto the pavement. "They either care about you or have nothing better to do today. You're choice."

I groaned. "Point taken," I said as Feli came running up to him. As I pulled out my luggage from the trunk, the Italian hugged the German. He kissed his cheeks, rambling on about how much he missed him. Heilrich sulked at his side, muttering in German. From what little I knew, he was saying something about how inappropriate he was acting.

"Get your fucking hands off my fratello Potato bastard!" Lovino shouted, ready to shoot the nation dead. But he did not persuade his case any further. Instead, he addressed me, "So you're leaving." He chose to look at his shoes, not my face. "So you couldn't stand the Potato Bastard any longer?"

I smiled softly and gave him a small hug. "Something like that." Our grandfather-daughter moment was interrupted all too soon. Feli jumped off of Ludwig and wrapped his arms around me.

He cried into the crook of my neck, nuzzling it slightly. "Vee~! Are you really going to leave?" He wailed with no shame. I could feel his tears soaking my blouse.

Like a mother, I patted his back. "I am," I told him, melancholy dressing my voice. I motioned for the empire to save me. Heilrich did so readily, gently pulling him off. I mouthed a 'danke' to him and he mouthed unidentified German in reply.

The blond brothers dragged the crying Italian up the train station steps. I watched them go for a moment. Lovino picked up my suitcases and scowled. "You know Annie, I could do with an assistant-" I shook my head. The brunette paused, looking down and scowling deeper. There was a pained look on his face. "Fuck. Was it something I-"

"Of course not." I took one of the suitcases from him and entwined his free hand with mine. "You know I love you, Nano."

"Don't fucking call me that," he muttered. There was a light blush on his face as he quickly added, "Nipote." I smiled and nudged his shoulder. We followed the men up the steps, nudging each other playfully.

The station loomed above, like the only citadel for miles all around. It's grand and regal atmosphere made me freeze in place. "Are you fucking coming or what?" Lovino asked, pulling me along. My feet came back to life and I inched my way inside.

The walls and ceiling were decorated in the same manner as the interior, but that was not what made me stare. Inside was filled with civilians trying to make their way across Germany. It would seem normal, except a small area a few yards from me. Arthur, Elizaveta, Rodderich, Antonio, and Yao sat on a bench, waiting impatiently for me to arrive. I counted heads.

Why were they here? I could understand some of them, like Elizaveta and Arthur, but why the Asian and Austrian? Both of the men hated my guts. The only woman of the group rose and met me half way.

Tearfully, she held me close to herself. "Szia Annie," she said, speaking into my hair. "I am going to miss you."

I felt a few tears prick my eyes. I dropped my luggage and greedily hugged her back, saying, "I'm going to miss you too."

Antonio, finished with his hello kiss for Lovino, happily wrapped both of his arms around us. "Tristeza~" he cried, lifting us into the air. "You really are going."

Struggling out of both their grasps, I gave a small, sad smile. "I am, but it is for the best."

Yao's brown eyes met mind as stole my attention. "So you are finally leaving- aru," he said. "If you had waited any longer, I would have gotten rid of you myself- aru."

My expression was a mixture of a grin and scowl. "Well you're a bit testy today," I growled, looking at the small crowd of nations. "Is it because you're boyfriend isn't here?" Yao looked just about ready to kill me.

He opened his mouth, ready to snap back at me angrily, when Arthur took a stand between us. He was dressed in a fine suit, looking clean and prim. "Now, now, let's not start fighting here," he said, a strange tiredness in his voice. Despite his healthy appearances, I guess he really was affected by the war. "We're all grown adults now; we would not want to cause a scene." Yao and I glared at him, demanding he stopped laying peace maker.

Before argument could start, Ludwig loudly cleared his throat. "Well let's get a move on," he urged, glancing at his watch. "Your train is going to leave soon."

Yao gave a defined nod, dropping his case. "That's right, so we must go over everything one last time- aru." He glared at me again, saying, "You are very lucky that we are allowing you to leave at all. We normally would kill anyone would found out about us- aru. If any word about our existence leave you or your brother's mouth, you better have your funeral planned, understand- aru?"

"The punishment is severe," Rodderich piped. There was a daring glint in his purple eyes when he added, "And no doubt it will be acutely agonizing." Well gee, thanks Roddy, like I needed encouragement.

Sarcastic moment aside, I took a moment to think it over. I could still back out. I could say one word and I could be working as Lovino's assistant. One simple word could also end my relations with them forever. Meeting the Asian's dark eyes, I nodded. "I understand."

My fate was sealed.

The train whistled loudly, bringing us all back to reality. Ludwig nudged my shoulder and handed me my suit cases. "Let's go," he urged gently. I couldn't tell if he was tired or sad. Probably the former.

I started to move. Feli looked ready to break down into another bout of tears. Sighing, I dropped them to my feet and out stretched my arms. "Group hug," I said. Elizaveta, Feli, and Antonio readily joined. We all embraced for a long moment, savoring each other's smell and touch.

When we separated, Lovino gave me my own hug. The sudden realization that I may never see my nano again made my heart drop. "Vivi una vita buona," he whispered, loud enough for only me to hear.

"Anche tu," I replied. We pulled away and I gave him a smile. All the Italian could do was scowl. I chuckled and lightly punched his shoulder. He brushed me away and stood by the Spaniard, secretly wanting his own form of sympathy.

Yao and Roderich tapped their feet impatiently. "You're going to miss your train," the brunette said, adjusting his glasses.

Smiling mischievously, I ignored them. Instead, I turned to the German I spent the past few years with. "Stay away from the alcohol," I advised, taking my luggage back in hand. We started to make our way to the train. It was going to take me to Switzerland, then Italy where I'll join Caroline, Edward, and David at our new home. "It's going to kill you someday."

He frowned. "You always say that."

Standing in front of my car, I gave the nations one last glance. All of them were frowning, each for different reasons. I waved and bid them all goodbye before climbing inside. It was nicely furnished with separate rooms for each passenger. I claimed mine and locked the sliding door shut.

Just when I had my luggage in the over head compartments, there was a knock on my window. Arthur stood behind it, smiling kindly to me. Blinking, I pushed the window up. "Sorry Annie," he apologized. "But I nearly forgot." The blond pulled out a thick leather book and placed it in my hands. "America and I thought it best if you had something to remember us by."

I stared at it, shocked. It was the book Emily Basil had used to identify each nation. "Arthur. . ." I could not find any words to express my gratitude. Everything they did for me was too much. Resisting the stronger need to cry, I placed a hand on his cheek. "Thank you." I nearly laughed at how emotional I was getting. "Thank you very much."

The train whistled one last time. He stepped away as I stayed at the window. I wiped the water for my eyes and did my best of smile. Just as the train started to move, I called out one last time: "Good bye!" I saw Ludwig and gave him one last message. "And thank you for tolerating me!"

As the train picked up speed, Feli did something unexpected. Eyes filled with tears, he chased after me, crying my name. Heilrich and Ludwig cursed before running after him. Elizaveta, Antonio, and Lovino joined them. Led by the Italian, they ran down the length of the station. It seemed as though they were going to chase me forever.

But the train station didn't go on forever. In the few seconds before they would reach the wall, Feli outstretched his hand towards mine. I brushed my fingers over his for the slightest second before snapping my arm inside. I barely missed the wall.

I stood there, panting as I waited for the window to clear. When it did, I stuck my head out again. I didn't see them; there was already too many ruined buildings and solid walls blocking my view. Was I really never going to see them again?

"_No, I can._" I looked down at my gift. "_I have the book_."

With that single thought singing in my mind, I sat on the red velvet seat and opened it to the first page. To my surprise, there were multiple things written. Like some sort of photo album, under each picture was a written message from each nation.

"_See ya around! You should immigrate and live in me!" _Is what Alfred wrote. I flipped through many of the other pictures. Matthais wished me "_fevrval" _and hoped that I "_visit the King of Northern Europe one day." _Kiku apologized for not seeing me off, but reported that he'll miss me very much. Ivan wrote that he was going to go through with his promise soon.

Turing the page, I saw that even the nations who personally saw me off wrote something to me. Amazingly, Ludwig also wrote me a long message. I peered at it, wondering what he could possibly have to say to me.

_Annie,_

_You are, and always will be, a pain in my arsch._ _Had I known that, maybe I would not have agreed to save your life that day. Actually, that's not true. I have tried to convince myself that Kiku's persistence was the reason for me sparing your life, but that is a lie._

_I chose to save you in order to defy my boss and my country. I thought that if I went against my boss's wishes, I could hold on to whatever small amount of free will I had. And I admit, having you around was an adventure. An annoying one at that, but an experience I will remember for a few centuries._

_It is only right that you should know that. _

_Everyone writing in this silly thing is offering a small piece of advice. I guess I shall offer mine. If you weren't such a smart-ass, we could have avoided haft of the problems we got into over the years. You brought everything upon yourself._

_Danke, __Auf wiedersehen__, and may I never see you again._

_Sincerely,_

_Germany, Ludwig_

"For some who doesn't care, you sure put a lot of thought into that," I said aloud. Sighing, I leaned into the seat. The train rocked like a mother cradling her baby to sleep. "Maybe you didn't hate me as much as I originally thought."

"Nein, he hates your guts." I raised an eyebrow at Gilbert. He had randomly appeared in the seat cross from me. His hands were cross over his chest and he smirked happily at me.

I smiled and leaned in further. "You had to ruin the moment," I chuckled. "Then again, when have you ever kept to the moment?"

The ghost laughed. "Only awesome people get to do that," he replied. For a moment, he chuckled loudly to himself. "Oh yeah, there was a reason why I came here." I gave him my attention, motioning for him to tell me. "I went down to Russia's house and spied on him. Because I'm awesome. Let's just say that 1964 is going to be a very short year for you." He looked out the window and cursed. "Speaking of which, Russia got General Winter to chase after the awesome me. Gotta go! Auf wiedersehen!" With that, he disappeared from my sight, never to be seen again. He didn't even give me a chance to say goodbye.

Sighing, I laided on the seat and closed my eyes. This journey was going to be emotionally stressful, I needed my sleep. Even now, I had the urge of turning around and returning to the nations, begging for a reason to stay.

As I moved my book to my lap, I felt my first real tear fall from my eye. It traveled down my face and onto the cushion. I closed the book and rubbed a hand down the leather cover. I sunk deeper into the seat. It felt as though I was falling. Falling and falling into an abyss with no end.

In a way, it was almost relaxing. "I'm never going to see you again, aren't I?" Saying it aloud is the only thing that made those words seem real, veritable. "We had a good run, didn't we?" Silent sobs shook my body. It was becoming hard to breath.

I took a large gasp of air and a waterfall of tears left my eyes. "I'm going to miss you," I whispered. I prayed that maybe they could hear me. Somehow. "I'm going to miss you all."

* * *

><p><strong>August 19, 1964<strong>

**16 Years Later**

"Get up Auntie Annie~!" Before I could crawl deeper under my blankets, the mattress I was laying on was flipped off the bed frame and onto the floor. I landed with a loud and painful thud. I will never know where she found the strength to do that.

I groaned and grumbled a series of incoherent swears. "Did you have to break my bones?" I demanded, trying to crawl my way out. "I am forty-six years old, I cannot be flipped off a bed like that, Caroline!"

My 'darling' niece laughed and lifted my prison off of me. She was a finely grown twenty-two year old, dressed in a lose flowery skirt and blouse. Her long blond hair fell perfectly to her waist whereas he green eyes sparkled happily at me. In summary, endowed with everything I lacked. "But it's your birthday!" She cried, pouncing to the spot next to me. "You should have been up hours ago!"

I grumbled and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "It's only noon," I complained. "You could have let me sleep longer."

She sighed, a frown forming on her face. In moments like that, she looked exactly liked her mother. "Uncle David and Aunt Elda called at seven to wish you happy birthday and Edward called an hour ago from England."

Unlike me, David was stilling living in Italy. Years ago, shortly after changing his name back to 'Rossi', he met and married the Italian beauty named Elda. They have three children now, all not even in their teens. Their first born, a son was named Patrick Romano (named after our father and grandfather). The other two, twins, were named Piera Milano (in honor of me) and James Seborga (in honor of his deceased friend).

Edward, now eight-teen, was living abroad in England. He was studying business with the intent of taking over our family's oil company. He was so smart, graduating top of his class in high school. My nephew had also found a love of writing. Apparently, he was in the process of writing a book. Of what, I didn't know.

That only left why Caroline was living with me in America. After David eloped, I packed my bags and sailed on _The Arsenius _to New York. I had never desired to stay in Italy; I just had to wait for a 'certain group of people' to stop paying close attention to my immigration status. Caroline came with me, declaring that she wanted to finish high school in 'the land of the free'. We found a place in Virginia and have been living there since.

I sighed. "I'll call them back tonight," I lied. I cracked my neck and stretched my arms out towards her. "Now be a doll and help an old lady back to her feet."

The girl groaned, stood, and helped me up. "You ain't that old," she said. "Besides a few wrinkles and maybe some gray hairs, I'll say you looked as young enough to marry Elvis himself."

I dragged my legs towards the bathroom. "Are you implying something?" I demanded, flicking the lights on. The mirror came to life, showing me an aged woman with long, gray streaked hair. I snatched and jammed my toothbrush into my mouth.

Caroline sighed and leaned against the door frame. "Well Auntie, you ain't getting any younger and you've never been hitched." She paused and added quickly, "Well there was Mr. Alwin, but that obviously didn't work out."

I spat into the sink. "Is there any reason why you are always bringing this up?" I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling away at the tangles. My hand lingered over the white bandage on my missing ear. The white was slightly brown. When Caroline leaves, I would have to change it.

I lead her out of my room and down the stairs to the kitchen. "I just want you to be happy," she told me. "You know, it's never too late to start dating."

Of course. She had the same argument every time. If she was a little older, then maybe I could turn the tables and demand she get married. "You, your brother, and David are the best family anyone could ever hope for," I replied hotly. There was a platter of cold pancakes on the table. I took a seat, finishing with a "what else could a woman possibly want?"

A dreamy sigh left her mouth. "Yeah, I guess you're right." We sat in silence at the table, stabbing away at our late breakfast. My niece swallowed loudly- a price of living in America -and realized something. "What about Mr. Big Eyebrows?" she asked.

I choked and punched my chest. "E-eyebrows?" I gasped, trying to regain lost air. I had a feeling who she meant.

"Yeah. He was this friend of yours. I met 'em long ago at a party." There was a far off look in her eyes. "He talked to me about fairies, remember?"

I swallowed and blinked rapidly. Of course it's him. Over the years, I have done my best to avoid any mention of 'a certain group of people'. "I remember him . . . "

She did not wait for me to continue. "He was a handsome fellow," Caroline said. "Why didn't ya ever hook-up with 'em?"

"Reasons best left untold." I continued to eat, singling that our conversation was over. Once again, we settled into a silence.

Once again, the blond broke it. "Hey Auntie I was wondering . . ." She trailed off; reconsidering her question I raised an eyebrow, imploring her to speak. "Annie, I . . ." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I was wondering what happened to Mom and Dad." I paused and placed my knife loudly back on the plate. "I know you never want to talk about it, but it's been how many years? I just want to know what happened."

I sighed. She asked me this question every year. Like every year before, I could avoid the question. But this year was different. I placed my elbows on the table, carefully considering my words. "There was a fight," I said. Caroline jumped back, not expecting me to answer. "Your mother, she was a kind-heart woman. One day, while I was caught in Germany, a group of men broke into our family's mansion and there was a fight. Your mother and father died during it."

"_My story doesn't match what she experienced," _I thought, reading the expression of disbelief in her face. I wished that I could tell her the truth, but I was bound by my promise to stay silent about a 'certain group of people's' existence. And there was my own conscience. "_I don't want to ruin her image of her mother." _

The blond nodded, pretending to accept my story. "Alright, that makes sense." I rose and gathered our empty plates. I brought them to the sink, filling the sink with water. Caroline smiled sweetly and crossed her legs. "We should do something today," she said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Like let's go sail _The Arsenius_." The very thought made her bounce in place. "It's always fun when we do that together."

"Not today." I drowned the plate in the soapy water before scrubbing away at the gunk.

She frowned. Normally, any mention of going for a sail would cause me to act like an excited teenager. But not today, today was different. Very different. She peered at me curiously, wondering if I was a different person. "Auntie Annie, are you okay?" she asked, rising from her seat. She placed her hand over my forehead. "Are you feeling sick?"

I continued to scrub at the plate. "I'm fine."

Did you hit your head when I flipped the bed?"

Scrub, scrub. "No."

"Are you feeling anything other than normal?"

Scrub, scrub, scrub. "No."

"Are you sure?"

Scrub, scrub. "Positive."

"Did something happen?"

Scrub, scrub, scrub, scrub. "No."

Caroline puckered her lips in frustration. "I bet you're sick," she stated, straddling her legs and placing her hands on her hips. "You're just too proud to admit it."

I killed the plates with my scrubbing. "I'm a nurse, dear. I can diagnose myself when I'm sick," I told her. I declared the plates clean and placed them in the strainer. "Why don't you go spend the day with your friends?" I suggested. "Didn't you say that they wanted to go for lunch anyways?"

There was an unidentified look on her face. "Um. . . are you sure?" The younger woman sounded unsure. "This is your birthday."

"It's fine, enjoy yourself." I gave her a small hug and kissed her forehead. "Just don't go doing whatever they smoke nowadays."

She laughed and swung her leather purse over her shoulder. "It's perfectly safe," she defended. "And it's not as though you didn't do anything like that when you were young."

I playfully laughed and smacked her forehead. "There was a war going on!" I defended. "The worst I ever did was drink moonshine and smoke cigs. Not Mary Janes."

"Right." Caroline strode to the back door and waved. "See ya Auntie!"

"Caroline!" She paused. I smiled and blew another kiss. "Just know that I love my family more than anything." I received another suspicious look before the door closed softly behind her.

That was the last time I ever saw her.

For the rest of my birthday, I anxiously prepared myself. I cleaned the living room, ensuring it was neat and posh. Afterwards, I took a long shower. Dressed in my Sunday best- a satin red dress decked in white lace -I sat on the living room's couch and made myself comfortable. There was two items on the coffee table: a handgun and Alfred's gift.

I waited for hours, passing time by looking through the book. It seemed as though the messages that 'certain group of people' left for me were new each time.

The sun moved across the sky; the sky turned an intense shade of orange. The color seeped through the windows and painted the room. The tint made the torrid air drier. I sat still, watching the day pass on. "_Maybe he wouldn't come,_" I thought. "_America and Russia do have bad politi-_"

My front door creaked open and a man peeked his head into my house. "It's been a long time," I greeted. I gave him a weak, but meaningful smile. "Wow, you really haven't changed a bit."

Ivan, wearing his signature trench coat and scarf, ignored my comment. Almost determinedly, he strode up to the coffee table in front of me and placed something on the desk. "I believe this is yours," he said, showing me the iron cross. "Da?"

I gently took it off the table. Rubbing a finger over the old, cool metal, I smiled softly. "Yes, it is." The looked on my face was relief. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," I told him. "With all the bad blood between you and Alfred nowadays."

"I had to sneak into the country," he replied, moving to my wall. "He brought it upon himself."

My eyes followed him. He was as creepy and eccentric as I remembered him. In a way, it was mocking. "You know, you probably just started a war," I said, wondering what he was doing.

"Da." His arm shot into the plaster without a second thought. I jumped to my feet, demanding he tell me what he was doing. "I was not able to bring my usual weapon with me," Ivan said, yanking one of my water pipes out. "So I am making my own."

I gawked at the water that spilled from the hole. Seriously? I was hoping Caroline could have a perfect house to live in when this was all through, but no. He had to destroy the plumbing! "I have a gun right here!" I snapped, pointing to the fire arm. "Why else would I have it out?"

The Russian cocked his head to the side, his violet eyes looking confused. "Is that so?" he asked. When I nodded, he smiled happily, saying, "Oh well. That changes nothing." I smacked my forehead.

Releasing a long sigh, I lowered myself back into my seat. My bones creaked and protested. I had forgotten how strange they all were. Even though today was suppose to be solemn and couth for once. I rubbed my temples, muttering curses to myself.

A cold piece of metal tapped me from under my chin and guided my face upwards. The nation smiled down at me; unapparent to the stress I was feeling. "I kept my end of the bargain," he said, indicating to my Iron Cross. "It is now time you keep yours. Da?" Last I checked, he forced this 'bargain' on me.

"Yes." I took the medal in my hands again, feeling its presence one last time. It was like the missing piece to a puzzle. It tied everything together, created an image for the world to admire. How I've missed it. "Ivan, can you do me a favor?" I held it out for him. "Can you give this to Heilrich? It was his in the first place."

He stared at it for a moment. His gloved hand met mind as he gripped it strongly. "Da. I will," he said, placing it in his pocket. Ivan took my hand and led me from the couch to the center of the room. "Do not cry out," he instructed, fixing me in the perfect spot. "Or else you'll alert your neighbors and the police."

"Alright." Was I the only one thinking how odd this all was- Setting up your own death? "I have another question for you."

If he was annoyed by me, then he did not show it. "What is it?"

I bit my lip for a moment, wondering how I asked him this. "Dying . . . does it hurt?" I asked. "Do you experience anything?"

A raised eyebrow was the only indicator of his surprise. "I am a country, so I do not know," the Russian said. "But many of my citizens have theories. They say that you might see your life flash before your eyes. They theorize that there will be intense or no pain. They do agree that it is like falling asleep- it is instinct."

"I see." I bowed my head and closed my eyes. I took a few long breaths. "I'm ready," I said. "Tell everybody I said 'hi.'"

"Da. I promise." Ivan carefully placed the pipe on the top of my head, making sure he'll hit the perfect spot. Meanwhile, I saw faces I haven't seen in years: Mom, Dad, Abigale Parker, Charles Bright, James Fisher, Rosa Bright, Walter Alwin. I wondered if they were in heaven right now. Then again, Rosa and Abigale were among them. Maybe I was going to hell instead.

How fitting.

When the pipe was lifted off my head, I couldn't help but to open my eyes once last time. I saw Ivan lifting the weapon high in the air and bringing it down swiftly towards me.

In the seconds before it hit my head, I saw a familiar story play out in front of me. It was all familiar. The characters, plot, and scenarios were familiar. But most importantly, the opening was familiar. The first words were my own.

_The memory I treasured the most took place on my eighth birthday . . ._

HETA: START

* * *

><p><strong>Funfacts and Translations<strong>

"His capital used to be: Berlin." Used to be known as 'Königsberg'.

"Suum cuique". To each his own. Latin.

"Gottverdammt" Goddamnit. German.

"Es tut mir leid" I am sorry. German.

"You're a ghost!" Before you all explode on me, this is actually a popular theory for Prussia's existence in modern day strips. It is not used commonly since the creator himself said that this is the least likely explanation.

"V-J day." Victory in Japan.

"We ended up spending his birthday in Italy together." A little hint to Rebel-AK's one shot ;)

"Alfred, Francis, and Arthur…Ivan" America, France, Britain, and the Soviet Union had control of Germany. China didn't.

"Nipote." Granddaughter. Italian.

"Szia" Goodbye. Hungarian.

"Tristeza" Sadness. Spanish.

"Vivi una vita buona," Live a good life.

"Anche tu," You too.

"_Danke, __Auf wiedersehen__" _Thank you, goodbye. German.

"Ferval" Goodbye. Danish.

"Mary Janes." Slang for 'marijuana'. Please note that I do not support the use of it. Caroline, however, is a hippie and like most, does not know better. To better support my position, I will tell you that she died haft a year later of a drug abuse. Remember kids, say no to drugs.

**Next Chapter: **Omakes.

**Review?**


	22. Omake

**MW: **Well, here were are, the omakes. Tis he end for this story, mes amies.

**BFTL and SEK**: Finally!

**MW**: -_- Shut it. Well, I should explain how this is going to work. First, we are going to have the omake prompts as suggested by **OTAKU-KON**. Hopefully, they will be satisfying. Then I have a little extra that **SEK** didn't proof read. You'll get more on that later. After that, it's the questions and answers, acknowledgements, and an ending letter.

AKA: a whole chapter of worthless crap! *applause*

By the way, Rebel-AK's one shot reward is done and will be published shortly. And it's related to HETA, so you might want to read it!

For those wondering, I'm doing two stories next. The first is a Hetalia version of Pocahontas. The second is (from whatever angle you look at it from) either an OC or Cannon centric story. The only hint I will I will give on that one is Seychelles. ;D

Anyways, enjoy~!

**Chapter Summary**: See above

**Warnings**: Language and religious references.

**Disclaimer:** No, I still don't own Hetalia. Sadness. . .

* * *

><p><strong>~Omake~<strong>

" _**Annie being reunited with Walter in the afterlife"**_

"_Where am I?" _I groaned and slowly lifted myself off the ground. _"Odd, was I just unconscious? Shouldn't my body be hurting?" _I rolled my shoulders, checking for creeks that weren't there. _"Not perfect?"_ I shook my head and looked at my milieu.

For some odd reason I was lying in a field of grass and colorful flowers. There were millions of different kinds: corn flowers, orchids, roses, dandelions, and so forth. How could there be so many in one place? I don't even think half of them were in season.

Besides the odd assortment of flowers, there was also a glow all around, as if the whole world was alight. There was an odd feeling all around me, as if there was something missing. But what? It took me a few seconds to realize. Air. There was nothing around to disturb the universe. There was nothing around to sway the erect plants at my sides.

But there had to be air- I was still able to breathe. or the first time, I looked over myself. I was wearing a long, fluid white dress. The cloth felt soft, like silk, but as light as air. My feet were bare and the calluses were gone. I pulled the dress's skirt up a bit and saw that all the scars on my legs and arms were gone. How could that be? If they were gone, then does that mean. . .

I raised a hesitant hand to my head. Brushing away my long hair, I felt both my ears. Even my missing ear had returned. I ran my hand over every inch of my face. All of my wrinkles were gone. I was youthful again. How the heck did that happen? This strange place continued to get creepier and creepier.

How did I get to this place anyways? The last thing I could remember was Ivan just about ready to kill me. _"So I'm dead,"_ I realized. For some reason, the prospect didn't bother me. In fact, a feeling of relief over came me. _"If I'm dead, then that means I'm in heaven."_

"A rather empty heaven," I said aloud, rising to my feet. The grass and flowers felt soft under my toes. Giggling, I wiggled them. Now I was turning into a little kid. I clapped my hand over my mouth and suppressed them. Now was not the time to be childish. I had to guarantee that I was actually in heaven. For all I knew, I was really in limbo, or purgatory, or hell.

When I suppressed the giggles, there was a gay noise in the background. More laughs in the distant, just a little ways ahead. Curiosity took hold of me and I found myself running to it. There were other people here. I wanted to see them. "_But what if it's God, or Saint Peter? How could I ever face them?"_ Something in my mind told me to be at ease.

"_There is nothing for me to be afraid of,"_ it whispered. Gladly, I listened to it.

Just as I calmed, I came upon the people. There were four of them in total, two laughing as the others playfully wrestled on the ground. Where they were, there were no grass, only flowers. Small balls of lights- like fireflies -floated in the air around them. The sight made me feel happy, yet sad. It was like a portrait- there, but untouchable.

For a very long time, I just stood there, watching them. They seemed so happy. . . I wished for more than anything to join them. Even if it's just for a minute. Still, I didn't. I could not get my legs to move or my voice to utter a word.

One of the men, their faux fight finished, untangled himself and looked in my general direction. He was too far away to be seen clearly, but he seemed very familiar. The man stared at me for a moment. He said something to his companions before running over to me. As he drew closer, his features became more defined. Slender body, slick black hair, green eyes, rectangular glasses. He was- "Annie!" He immediately hugged me, pressing me close to him. I stood stiff. Since when was Walter so. . . loose?

I was left without words. He was so warm, the opposite of how ghost-Gilbert feels. The doctor took a step back and gave me his signature soft smile. Holding my hands in his, he slid something up my finger. "In my mouth?" he asked, laughing under his breath. I looked down and saw my long lost engagement ring on my finger. "Why would you put something like that in my mouth? If you wanted to have gotten rid of it you should had taken it to a pawn shop."

"You were dead," I replied, fondly twisting the ring between my fingers. Vaguely, I thought about how strange of a greeting this was. If two dead people met the in afterlife, you would expect something a bit more sober. "And I wanted you to get to the right part of hell." I looked up at Walter and smiled. "I'm sorry I took so long to get here-"

He once again took my hand, sternly telling me, "No, don't say that. I'm so proud of you for living such a long life. It could had been longer, but you were happy for most of it. That's what's important."

"Yeah." I looked down at the flowers surrounding us. "So we're dead now, right?" He curtly nodded. That was an action I vividly remembered him doing. I was good to see that he was still the same man. "What do we do now?"

"We can watch what happens on Earth," he said. "All we have to do is close our eyes and think about something we want to see." I immediately did so.

My vision shot down to the Earth and found Ivan. He was briskly walking into the room of a world conference. There was nothing off about him as he mechanically approached Heilrich. The nation placed the Iron Cross in his hands before calling the meeting to order. I brought myself back to Walter just as Lovino stood and loudly demanded where he got that.

"I guess my nano still cares about me," I said, smiling under my breath. I opened my eyes and looked at my fiancé. He looked the exact way I felt: so pure and so strong. "But I guess that he wouldn't want me spying on him," I chuckled. "None of them would. Especially Ludwig-"

Walter stopped my words by wrapping his arm around me. "They wouldn't mind," he said. "but-" He pointed at the other people. "There's a few friends who want to see you."

The three remaining people seem clearer now and I could make out their faces. There was James Fisher, looking younger and completely happy. Hand in hand stood two a couple. The first was a young man with blue eyes and neat blond hair. "Is that . . . my dad?" I asked, squinting for a better view. I have never seen him so young.

Walter nodded. "Yes, it is. The woman next to him is-"

"Mom!" I pushed my fiancé aside and ran to my mother. There she was, alive and dressed angelically in white garments. She turned to me, smiled, and readily allowed me to run into her arms. Her grasp was that long missed home I waited years for. There was never I moment in my life where I felt happier. I even shed tears of it.

Distracted, I never heard Walter when he said, "Welcome home, Annie."

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>Prussia having that awesome family union thingy that he never got to have"<strong>_

Holy Rome stepped inside of the restaurant. It was one of those casual ones with music and half-way-decent food. Yet, there was a warm, cozy feel to the place. _"I guess that's why Italy wanted to eat here,"_ he thought. Earlier that week, his ever precious Italy had invited him to lunch.

He didn't question why they were going to a restaurant in Germany, or why they had to keep quiet about it. But the empire didn't care. This date meant that Italy loved him- not Germany. The very thought of having Italy all to himself made his heartbeat quicken.

A waitress, one in her early twenties, approached him. She politely tapped his shoulder, saying, "Excuse me Herr, but are you Herr Heilrich Beilschmidt?" He nodded. "There is a man waiting for you in the private dining room."

Holy Rome's heart jumped even more. A private dining room? Italy reserved for them a private dining room? The possibilities of 'romantic endeavors' just increased. Rather excitedly, he asked, "Can you take me there?"

The waitress lead him through the labyrinth of tables and to a closed door. "He's in here," she said. "Call me or anyone else of the staff if you need anything."

He thanked her and waved her off. Well, here he was. The empire was not going to screw this one up. Italy and him were going to have the time of their lives. He firmly grasped the doorknob and pushed the door open. "Guten Tag, Ita-"

"What in Gott's name are you doing here?" Holy Rome paused in his tracks. That voice . . . it couldn't be. . . But, sure enough, instead of Italy greeting him, it was Germany. By the look on the man's face, he'll say that he also wasn't expecting him.

"What am I doing here?" The elder brother closed the door behind him and pointed a finger. "What are you doing here?"

Germany frowned, saying, "Italy told me to be here. The two of us were-"

"Going for a date?" Dumbly, he nodded. Holy Rome groaned. "That's not possible!" He exclaimed. "He asked me to be here. Not you!" They glared at each other for a long moment, daring the other to claim the impossible: Italy loved him, not the other.

"Guten Tag, my awesome bruders!" Prussia stepped through the wall of the room, throwing his hands up in the air excitedly. There was a large grin on his face and a happy glint in his eyes. "I'm glad you both could make it!"

"Make it for what?" Germany asked irritably. "I swear, if this is one of your pranks-"

Prussia flopped onto one of the dining room chairs. He rested his feet on the table and placed his hand behind his head. "The awesome me did no such thing," he said. "I just asked Italy if he could help me get you two into the same room."

Cute, innocent Italy tricked them? How did Prussia manage that? The answer was actually a lure of taking the other to an all pasta buffet. But they didn't need to know that. It would be much easier to believe that Italy had done it on accident..

Holy Rome remained still in his spot, not daring to join the other two at the table. "_Stupid younger bruders,_" he thought angrily. _"Always messing things up._" Giving a long sigh, he hunched his shoulders. "And why are you here?" he asked.

The ghosted smiled broadly. "I'm here so that you can keep your awesome promise."

Both blonds gave him a crazy look. "What promise?"

A small notepad appeared in Gilbert's hand. In an intelligent manner, he flipped through the pages, looking for a specific note. "On the date of August 19, 1927, I met my older bruder, the Holy Roman Empire, for the first time since the Napoleonic Wars. Upon the time of his departure, he promised me, the once Great Kingdom of Prussia and later East Germany, that he, Germany, and I will have an awesome family reunion with beer and wurst." With a satisfying flick, the notepad was flipped shut and faded away. "And it will be an awesome one."

Holy Rome felt like an idiot. With everything that had happened, he had forgotten about that promise. How was he expected to remember something so insignificant? After all, not an hour after that promise was he captured and sentenced to twenty years of imprisonment.

"This is not the best time," Germany said, rising to leave. "They're talking about bringing down the wall. I need to be there for the decision-"

"One hour!" There was a desperation in the Prussian's voice. "Just be here for one awesome hour." His red eyes and lips pouted. "Bitte?" How could anyone say no to a look like that?

"Nein." Holy Rome turned and placed his hand firmly on the doorknob. "This is a waste of my time Prussia," he said. "I have better things to do." You could literally hear the ghost's heart breaking.

Maybe that was the reason why the youngest of them all rose to be the better person. He folded his arms and glared at the empire, saying, "I have other things to do as well, but I believe that one hour would not hurt anyone."

"Well you two can stay here and-"

"And what exactly do you have to leave for? What exactly is so important?"

The reason was to find Italy and woo him over. Get him away from someone like Germany. Why would Holy Rome's ever precious Italy love him anyways? He has caused two of the biggest wars in history. But it was not as though he could say any of that a loud. "It's important."

"Like what? Stealing other people's lovers?" Thus, the blond crossed the line and into uncharted territory. The territory of an angry empire.

Prussia's red eyes were wide as he tried to calm them down. "Now guys, this isn't very awesome-" Of course, he was ignored.

"Steal people's lovers?" Holy Rome asked as he marched angrily to the German. He roughly grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him to his feet. "As far as I'm concerned, that's exactly what you are doing!"

Germany ripped his arm away and continued to glare at him. His blue eyes were as dangerous as they were cold. "You forfeited your right to love Italy when you disappeared," he growled. "If you cared, then you would have shone your face."

The words stabbed at his aching heart. The smoldering embers of rage in his breast ignited completely. "I had no choice!" The older brother yelled, tilting his head up at Germany. "I was imprisoned for twenty year-"

"What about before?" The air around them grew silent. Both of them were panting, ready to wring each other's necks. The man went on, continually driving the knife deeper into the empire's guilt. "What about when France 'killed' you? Why didn't you show your face then? Why?" He stomped his foot loudly on the ground, and screamed, 'Why did you let the world believe that I was you? Why?"

Holy Rome stared at him, blue eyes wide with realization and shock._ "So that's why he hates me,"_ he thought, eyeing the tears pricking his eyes. _"Not because of Italy, but because of me." _He could not apologize. He had to maintain his resolve and defeat this sadistic arsch. Stiffly, he once again reached for the doorknob.

"Idiots." They both paused and turned to the middle brother. He was standing, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at them. There was a glint of hurt and disappointment in his eyes as he pressed his lips together. Both paused to stare at them. Since when did Prussia ever look so. . . defeated.

"You are a bunch of idiots," he shakingly said. "First I lose my older brother to my best friend. For every single country out there that could had died, it had to have been my bruder. Damn, I was so scared . . . so Germany, when you came around, I tried to set the world right and do everything I can to keep you alive. But I screwed everything up to the point where you're nothing but annoyed with me. After years of bearing through the loneliness, I find out that you're still alive and that I was being an ass for no reason. For a moment there, I had really hoped. I hoped that I could hug you both and that we could be this awesome family. But then you- Holy Rome -you disappear again! So years later, I'm no longer a country, West hates me, and I fail as a brother and let him get kidnapped by a bunch of humans.

You want to know something? I thought that I lost both my brothers for good. I thought I lost you all. I never got the chance to hug you or say one last goodbye. But then this great thing happens, you're both still alive. We could be that family we deserved to be. . . But you're both idiots; neither one of you see that. Neither one of you see how lucky you are to have each other." Prussia determinedly marched up to Germany and waved his hand through his head, sending a chill down the brother's spine. "And I can't even touch you. I can't even get that one last hug."

The blonds exchanged shocked glances. When had Prussia ever felt this way? For decades, he had seem so happy- always grinning and laughing at other's misfortunes. How could such a man actually harbor such a tragedy inside of himself for so long and speak not a word of it?

Hunching his shoulders, the ghosted sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You both can go," he said, defeated as he sulked closer to the door. "It was foolish of the awesome me to believe that you actually would care."

Holy Rome stood like a statue as his younger brother drew closer. His head was hung low, and his platinum blond bangs shielded his face further. He momentarily paused in front of the empire before simply stepping through him.

Prussia was gone before the chill left Holy Rome's body.

The remaining men in the room- one empire and one country -stared at each other. They said nothing, but the look they shared was mutual. They silently agreed on their next move.

* * *

><p>Prussia dragged his feet on the ground as he approached Germany's front door. More than anything in the world he wanted to go to some bar and get dead drunk. But bad news for him: he couldn't even grasp a tall glass of nothing. It would be pointless to flirt with some random chick since his hands would just go right through her chest. Literally.<p>

Groaning, he walked right through the closed door and into the living room. Might as well just return to the basement. . .

"You're late!" He glanced up and saw Holy Rome standing at the doorway to the kitchen. There was a ticked, yet humored look on his face. He knew something the ghost didn't. "We've been waiting for you for the past two hours."

Prussia blinked. 'We?" he asked dumbly. "Who's 'we?'"

Right on cue, Germany's voice rang from the kitchen. "Bruders! The wurst is ready!"

Now he was really confused. Germany and Holy Rome were making wurst? And they waited for him? What in Gott's name was going on? Those two never stopped arguing long enough to have a civil conversation, let alone make wurst.

"Come on." Holy Rome smiled and beckoned for him to join them in the kitchen. "We have the best beer possible for this occasional." Prussia stood stock still. Does this mean- "Seriously bruder, you need to hurry your arsch along."

A grin drew on his pale face. "Keseses~!" He exclaimed. "You two are awesome!" He readily walked into the kitchen, thinking only one thought to himself.

"_Well Fritz, I guess I got my wish."_

* * *

><p><strong>MW: <strong>I have to explain this to you all. Back when I kept Prussia alive, I had this version of the epilogue where everyone is okay in the end. If this was cannon, then this would had taken the place of the Graveyard scene last chapter. I kept it for the simple fact that there were a few things about this I liked.

We kind of see everyone who was involved in the story one last time. There is also the scene where Annie, Francis, and Lovino and looking through the conquer list and a few funny lines. Overall, this version is a lot happier than the other one, but I wouldn't have done it differently.

Without further ado, here it is.

* * *

><p><strong>~Extra: An Epilogue Where Prussia Wasn't Dead~<strong>

**April 7, 1944**

**Arthur's Mansion**

"I will never be able to look at needles the same way again," David said as Yao drew blood from his lower arm. We all sat in one of Arthur's many richly decorated parlors. The past days have been slow and hectic at the same time. All the nations were either recuperating from the fight, helping the Brit sort out the criminal charges, or fighting their boss to allow a few more days of rest.

Arthur scowled and continued with his embroidery. "You only had your blood drawn once," he snapped. Yao had taken samples from all the captures nations and discovered earlier that day that they all were infected with the poison. We both found it reasonable cause to be in a bad mood. "I had my blood drawn five times. Holy Rome probably had even more."

My brother pouted. "Aw, come on Artie," he whined. "Do you really have to be so mean?"

"Don't call me Artie!"

"Enough- aru!" Yao demanded, placing the syringe on a metal plate. He picked it up and turned to me. I sat at the couches with Lovino and Francis. We were scouring the Frenchman's conquer lists for my family name. "It'll take a few days for the results to come in," he told me. "But I can almost guarantee that David has both their bloods- aru."

I thanked him and returned to the books. Yao had already figured out that David would heal at any injury, though is still susceptible to disease, aging, and (most importantly) death. I was impressed- both he and Vash had worked together all night to create an antidote for the poison and finally distributed it an hour ago. Already, Lovino was looking like his usual grumpy self. I continued to search the pages. It was amazing what the Asian could do.

"Found it!" Francis said. He placed the book at the center of a coffee table and pointed to one name: Elizabeth Mary Aston Henson. I searched for the name on our copy of my family tree. Sure enough, there she was, marrying into my family all the way back in the 1700s.

"Wow, that's a long time ago," I said. "I'm amazed you're blood stayed in my family for that long."

"I'm not." Lovino gave a small huff. "Half of Europe descends from the wine bastard."

The man in question smiled. "And I'm proud of that fact." He leaned into the couch cushion and gave me a mischievous smile. "So Annie, how about you and I have a little grand-père et petite-fille bonding time."

I frowned as Lovino looked ready to burst at the other man. "No thank you," I said. "Your family bonding time probably involves me taking off my clothes."

"It'll be fun~" he sang, giving me a hopeful look. Creep.

David perked up. "Fun?" He reappeared, giving a goofy smile. "I want to have some fun with my Nanos!"

Lovino growled, "Don't fucking call me that."

"Watch your language! Children coming through!" Alfred yelled as he and Kiku arrived. For some odd reason, both men had taken to playing with my niece and nephew. As we speak, Edward sat on the American's shoulders, joyfully playing with his cowlick. Caroline held onto the Asian's hand before she let go and dashed up to Arthur.

"Look what I got Mr. Kirkland!" She exclaimed, holding a daisy for him to see. "Is there any fairies on this one?"

The blond smiled and took the flower from her. "There aren't any fairies on this one," he said. Before she could frown, he added, "However, flying mint bunny does love the smell of daisies. Why don't the two of us go give it to him?" She squealed happily and followed the fatherly man out the door, dragging her poor brother with her.

Alfred watched them go, smiling warmly. He placed a strong arm around Kiku's shoulders and gave a content sigh. "Hey Japan, let's have bastard kids together."

His lover gave a shocked look. "I do not know what you mean America-san," he said. "Could you please explain yourself better?"

The hero gave his obnoxious laugh. "Sure thing! This is all we have to do: we go have sex with two different people. They get pregnant and we hook their children together and voila! We have bastard kids! It's kinda like what France and Romano did."

"Are you implying that I purposely had a child with that bastard?" My Italian grandfather yelled, turning red in the face. It was from anger, not embarrassment. I think.

Francis laughed and slipped his slimy hand where hands should not go. "Why don't we try it the traditional way?" he slurred, leaning in. David covered his eyes, declaring his grandparents to be freaks. He'll get use to it . . .eventually. . .maybe. . .

Before the fight could escalate any further, I stood and made a fake excuse of wanting some sleep. But instead of heading to my quarters, I traveled down the opposite hall with no set destination in mind. Along the way, I ran into nation after nation, each either waving or ignoring me.

I saw Norway recuperating with Matthias. The taller blond smiled and gave me a thumb up before returning his attention to the younger man. I smiled back and continued on.

Sadiq sulked at a door way with Gupta and Heracles at his side. He was not happy on how our fight earlier turned out. When he saw me, the nation tried to raise his fist, but both men held him back. "I'm going to kill you someday jackass!" he yelled as I walked on.

I turned and gave him a small smile. "And I'll be waiting," I returned as I gave a mocking bow. Walking on, I ran into Antonio and Vladimir. Both were on their way to give Lovino a huge box of chocolates each. The Spaniard's form of a gift; the vampire's form of a joke. In order to avoid Ivan in his attempts to find Yao, I found myself heading to the first floor.

Going down the marble stair case, I saw Roderich and Elizaveta sitting on the bottom step. They held each other's hands, tearfully trying to reconcile their broken marriage. The woman smiled at me, but the ex-husband gave me a stern frown. Well, I guess I can't have everything in the world.

I entered the kitchen. Vash was on the phone with Lilli, trying to explain to her what had happened. Matthew was at the stove and- for some reason -cooking a huge stack of pancakes at nine at night. His cousin, Michelle, sat eagerly at one of the counters, waiting for some food to accompany her ruby wine. Tino sat by her, having a one sided conversation on the next Christmas party with Berwald. His husband would give grunts in reply, though I swear there was a smile on his face. In a corner, Feliks was cooing over a sparkly pink outfit he forced on Toris. Poor guy.

At the table, Ludwig and Heilrich (Holy Rome's human name) were having a static filled argument in German. That was one thing I found out: the empire has no idea how to speak English. Lucky for me, he can speak decent Italian, but he often forgets and addressed me in his native tongue anyways. I just found it easier to avoid conversing with him.

Feliciano stood between them, a distressed look painted on his smiling face. I would say that the two men were arguing about him. Still weak, Gilbert sat across from them and gave me a large smile and a wink before returning to his job as referee.

I poured myself a glass of water before taking a step onto the back poach. For once, the weather was not rainy. I could see the night sky and the stars that decorated it clearly. The full moon illuminated the dark grass expanding in front of me. The blades danced at the small breeze. I shivered at the chill before taking a seat on the ground. I lit myself a cigarette and took a long drag.

For a moment, everything was peaceful. The idyllic countryside eased my nerves down to a small dull. "What are you doing out here?" I glanced back and saw Ludwig standing by the door. By his expression, I could tell he lost his argument.

"Reflecting," I replied. "And before you can say it, yes, I know how cliché that sounds."

He chuckled softly and took a seat next to me. He took one of my cigs before asking, "What cliché topic are you reflecting on?" You know, it was nice when we were both too tired to be mad at each other.

"Everything." I took another long drag and looked up at the stars. "I find it hard to believe that it's all over," I elaborated. "Everyone who was involved in this is either dead, serving life terms in prison, or resting in this house."

Ludwig gave a long sigh and rested his chin in his hand. "You get the same feeling after a war," he replied. "After feeling all of your citizen's hardships for years on end, there is only this numbness left when it's over."

"Like you got use to the pain?"

"Ja, in a way."

We sat in silence for a long moment, enjoying the chill air around us. There was this damp smell in the air, like newly scattered dew, that mixed with the tobacco smelling smoke. We heard Michelle laughing at a joke and Gilbert cooing to his 'precious Italy'.

I gave another long sigh. "It makes me wonder what I'm going to do now," I rambled, forgetting who I was talking to. "After all this, how am I ever going to find anything remotely as fulfilling?"

"You can start by keeping to your contract," the blond replied, blowing a puff of smoke from his mouth. I was amazed- he said that with no hesitation.

I stared at him. "You mean-"

"Ja." Ludwig stood. "You are my maid and you will be till your contract runs out. Then you'll receive your exit visa." He smirked and threw his cig to the ground. It smoldered for a moment before he crushed it with his boot. "I'm not just about to let you run out on our contract," he added before returning to the inside.

I quickly called out, "Good luck with your boyfriend!" He gave a 'ja, ja' in reply, but paid no heed to me. I found myself smiling; he was going to kill me later for doing that.

Returning to my thoughts, I looked up at the stars. I could see the big and small dipper- the only two constellations I knew. I had my whole life ahead of me still; there had to be something I could do.

Perhaps when I am no longer a maid, the German would keep me around as an assistant or something. For maybe one of my new grandfathers would. Either David or I would raise Caroline and Edward and we can be a happy family.

Family. What a funny word.

Family is a group of people related to you by blood. In a way, I agreed and didn't agree with it. I use to hate my family. I despised them, but stuck by them since 'that is what families do'. I found a place where I belonged in the nations, just to lose it completely.

And in the end, it was my own family who saved me. David and Dad, they were always behind me. Plus, I was now related to two countries! I could stay.

But I couldn't.

I will age and die. The nations will stay youthful forever. I couldn't stay here and let them see that. I could image how painful it must be to see the flow of time go on without you. It must be terrible. So terrible. Plus there was Ivan's promise I had to uphold.

There really was only one way for this to end. I opened my coat pocket and pulled out my leather bound book. This thing damned and saved me. It almost seemed right to keep it.

"_But it felt better ridding the world of it._"

With that one thought echoing in my mind, I placed the crisp pages over my lighter. The flame caught easily and spread thickly. I dropped it and watched the fire eat away at the words, destroying the story of the HETA boy and his human friend.

The orange glow it created shadowed my face. I lifted my head up to the stars, trying to stop the tears before they came. "Are you proud of me?" I asked them.

The ghosts Mom and Dad's voices replied, "_Are you?_"

I poured my water over the fire. For the longest of time, I watched the smoke rise from the ashes and into the sky.

"I don't know yet."

* * *

><p><strong>~Questions and Answers~<strong>

**Q:** What WAS the badge that the Hetalia characters show to the officials so they could get by?

A: It was an I.D. with their human names on it. To the side, there was a symbol of a world held in the palm of God's hands. Apparently, when you began an officer, you learned that it you ever saw that symbol, then you better respect them.

Q: Did Grandpa Rome taught the "Heaven and Hell" and "Draw a circle, that's the Earth" to Prussia?

A: Grandpa Rome wrote the song and over time, the rest of the world learned it. "Draw a circle" was written by Austria as a lullaby for Chibitalia. It spread and soon everyone was making their own versions of it.

Q:How are America and Japan these days along with Austria and Hungary?

A: America and Japan are together. During the mid 1900s, they had a bit of a fallout, but they started to repair their relationship with the rise of electronics.

Austria and Hungary were very quickly able to hook back together. They always talk about getting remarried, but both of them are fine with what they have right now.

Q: Why does Germany keep breaking Annie's nose?

A: The first few times was just sheer logic, but over time I thought that it would be funny if it was a reoccurring injury. Poor Annie, her nose probably looks deformed by now.

Q: What is your favorite Hetalia character?

A: I really don't have a favorite. I have a list of likes and dislikes. But if I had to pin one character, it would have to be either Prussia or Romano.

Q: Do you like/read Hetalia yaoi?

A: Yes, but no lemons. And just Hetalia. Yaoi from any other series just does satisfy my needs.

Q: Do you like that heta-oni game?

A: Yes. I actually have watched every Hetalia game except RomaHeta. For any ToH fan, I'm that girl who gets all the top comments :D

Q: You got any in-person friends that watch Hetalia?

A: Yes. I have BFTL, SEK, the ToH girl, two of my sister's friends, three of my other buds, and my drama club president.

Q: If you had to pick, which country would be most like you?

A: Romano. He and I are the same, hence why I'm in therapy.

Q: What's your history grade?

A: Sadly, freshmen don't take history. Next year, I am taking AP European History though. But in an attempt to answer your question, I had an A last year for US history.

Q: Do you listen to vocaloid?

A: I used to be addicted to it, but not so much. Due to sheer laziness, I haven't removed half of my fandubers from my subscriptions, so I listen to the occasional English fandub (actually, as I write this now, Miku-Tan's version of "Romeo and Cinderella" is playing)

Q: What's your favorite place to shop?

A: Either the book store or Bath and Body Works. Clothing stores scare me.

Q: What movie did you go see and wasted your money on cause it completely sucked?

A: Dinner for Shmucks. I saw it two years ago. It didn't get funny until the last twenty minutes and all the jokes were sexual. The worst part is that my sister and cousin loved it to death.

Q: What Hetalia country would you slap?

A: Holy Rome. *slaps* Why did you never come back?

Q: What Hetalia country would you prank call?

A: America. He'll be the only one to fall for it.

Q: What language would you like to learn?

A: I'm currently learning French, though I would also love to learn German, Italian, and Spanish.

Q: What country would you like to go to/live in?

A: Britain. I'm in Europe, yet I don't have to learn another language. Plus, they have Top Gear there.

Q: Your opinion on paint it white?

A: It was cute. The random scene inserts annoyed the crap out of me.

* * *

><p><strong>~Acknowledgements~<strong>

Firstly, I would like to acknowledge SEK for going out of her way to proofread this. You are awesome. Her and Blue also need to be appreciated for dealing with me for the whole 8 months it took me to write this.

Wikipedia and the Hetalia Archives were also a big help in answering questions on history and character personalities. Same goes with Google Images. Oh, how I love you internet.

Thank you mom and dad for not questioning me when I would stay up till late hours in the night to write. You fueled the flames of my fan girl needs. This, I know, is exactly what you didn't want.

Lastly, I would like to thank you, the readers. If you guys didn't review, draw your fan arts, or randomly mention me; then I would had lost faith in my ability to write. You are the reason this story ever came into existence.

I thank you all!

Je vous aime~!

* * *

><p><strong>~An Ending Letter~<strong>

Dear MidnasWolf of the summer of 2011,

You are sitting in your summer Algebra class, bored out of your mind. SEK just recently showed you the world of Hetalia fan fiction and you were amazed. See? Fan fictions are good. By now, you're boredom has gotten the best of you.

Hetalia. A story starts to formulate in your mind. It's rather cliché, but you write down the basic points anyways. Oh look, SEK is suggesting you write a fan fiction. You should, it's a good idea.

Unsure, you refine that idea you had. First of all, get rid of the freaking romance. Not everyone wants to read an OCXCannon story. After 8 different outlines, you write the story down and post it. You stare at the status option. Maybe someday, you'll be able to press "complete".

First chapter, one review.

Second chapter, a few more.

Don't lose hope because for some odd reason, your day dream is going to be worth it. SEK will start proofreading it and Blue will be supportive. You're writing is going to improve as well.

Oh look, you made a friend.

Hey, fan art!

More reviews.

Why does everyone like this story? There are so many flaws. But you just keep on writing! It'll be worth it.

Last chapter, over 100 reviews and nearing 50. Ha, well looky here. You guessed that this wasn't such a bad idea after all. Actually, you are kind of glad you did this. Now you're at the moment where you will be clicking the complete button. You never thought you will ever get to do that.

Well, everyone reading this is bored and I know you are. By now, you are probably ready to write your next stories. Hopefully, they will all be able to meet the stander this one made.

With Love,

MidnasWolf, March of 2012

*****THANK YOU LOVES FOR READING, REVIEWING, AND BEING PAITENT WITH ME! I LOVE YOU ALL! SEE YA LATER~!*****


End file.
